Lord Facis and The Prince of Fray
by Cheezewizz
Summary: SLASH. HIGHLY AU! Harry, sent to the city of Fray to help in a battle against a dark army, saves the life of a young guard. Harry learns that there is more to the guard than meets the eye but soon both men must face the world and each other HP/OMC Revised
1. Chapter 1

IMPORTANT! --History: First off, Harry has gone through all the normal problems (ignoring books 6 and 7). He did the philosophers stone, basilisk and all that jazz. But in between those things he got himself into all sorts of other situations. He was named heir to the queen of the elves that lived in the forbidden forest, he made a number of political moves that landed him in strange situations and resulted in numerous titles. Rita Skeeter capitalized on Harry, making him more famous than he ever would have anticipated. Think like the Beatles or something. He attracted huge crowds. When Harry was 15, he discovered a way to travel through parallel dimensions. He enjoyed getting away from his fame. Once he was in these dimensions however, he ended up doing something astonishing completely on accident and making himself known in those worlds. The ministry began experimentation with the discovery Harry made about other worlds and began expeditions to those places. They were all called Facis expeditions. When the locals of these universes asked who Facis was, the teams would explain about their fearless leader, Commander Facis. They told of Harry's exploits, which they had read about in the Skeeter publications. Harry's notoriety grew so that the places he visited hailed him as a Hero and a legend. After he defeated Voldemort at 17, He began to organize the leaders of those worlds, creating a Circlet of Power. These men and women dealt with the inter-universal relations that all centered on Harry's world. As the universes developed their diplomacy, they each began to communicate and send teams a few at a time to each world. There, they made a number of important discoveries based on the different cultures, technology, and faunal manifestations. They also gossiped. A lot. And it was all about Commander Facis AKA Harry Potter. As Harry's powers and accomplishments grew (elemental mage, wandless magic, natural healing, etc. etc.) Harry began to lose all anonymity he ever had. His real name was lost as all around hailed him as Facis.

Author's note: Don't worry, this is the first and last time I will ever write from Esmeralda's point of view. She's a bitch. Also as a quick note, I tend to skip POV a lot. I try to separate each change in POV with a break. Often, the break will change scene or place. Sometimes, it is the same place and point in time only with another character. I skip between Harry and Astyr all the time. Just know that a break doesn't mean the end of a conversation or event (as this first scene shows you). Sometimes however, I change POV without a break. Usually that's just because it's a brief little bit on what the other person is feeling before going back to the original POV. I think, for the most part, the whole thing is easy to follow. If it isn't, tell me and I'll change it.

* * *

Chapter One

Harry smiled into the breeze off the forecastle of the greatest sailboat ever built, created by Merlin himself. At 20 years, he looked dashing and handsome to anyone that cared to notice. Princess Esmeralda of Parsh always noticed. She watched as his hair flew about in the wind and she examined his body in appreciation.

Oblivious, he grinned as the water splashed his face, soaking him. Esmeralda shuddered at the thought of the disgusting wetness coming off the sea. She couldn't understand why Facis liked it so much. When she had first met him, she had tried to flatter him, addressing him by his most glorious titles. He had looked sick. She had tried to talk about his achievements but he had only politely thanked her and left. She didn't know him at all. He was so different from her other suitors. His mystery enticed her.

She researched him extensively but there was little to find. She seemed to hit a wall when it came to his real life. She knew enough about his adventures but not his home. She imagined huge palaces and large metallic towers that poked at the sky. Hers was a universe that Facis had visited twice. She told anyone that would listen. She had heard that some of the people who appeared in his adventures alongside him went on to win many awards and became the most powerful men and women of their worlds. She knew if she stuck by him she would piggyback her way to fame and glory. She approached him as he contemplated the horizon. She would have him. It was only a matter of time.

Harry sighed softly, reveling in the simple pleasure of the wind and ocean on his face. He didn't often get much time to enjoy himself as his duties and life style kept him busy. The huge ship that he now commanded was given to him by a sweet sea sprite that was quite bored one day. He had discovered her sighing over how no one would talk to her at which point he struck up a conversation. She had mischievously led him to a well-warded cave containing this magnificent ship, called The Dinghy. Apparently Merlin had a sense of humor.

For all that its name was amusing, the ship itself was no laughing matter. It was 100 feet long, 3 masted, and it cut through the water like nothing else in the sea. Harry had once spent a month in a world that was completely covered in water. The inhabitants were master sailors. Their boats were incredibly designed and he had learned everything he knew about sailing after he'd told them he'd never had any experience on the water. That had baffled them (understandably) but they quickly taught him. The people of that world would die in shock at the sight of the Dinghy. It was a true work of art.

He, and a crew of 50-armed soldiers and magicians were on their way to a battle that even Harry doubted they would survive. He was experienced in war. He had seen things few could imagine. Harry was a god on the battlefield. He knew death but he did not fear it. He respected it, but that would not prevent him from living. Voldemort had taught him that lesson early on. This battle however, was one he had fought many times. He was on his way to save a small kingdom from being overrun by a dark army. This army was especially strong and he had seen few that rivaled it in numbers. What was worse, the kingdom was much too small to hold out against attack. Harry knew he was more than likely to find it in ruins already.

"Commander Facis! You look marvelous today. Please, wont you come and eat lunch with me? You can tell me all about your heroic exploits in the Philippines."

Harry stiffened and quickly composed his features as he turned to look at the woman behind him. She was obviously not happy so close to the prow of the ship, wearing many more layers than strictly necessary and warily looking over the side at the threatened salt spray before flashing him a brilliant smile. She was pretty in her own way. If she weren't such a gold digger she might even be pleasant. She and her mother had politically maneuvered Harry into a position where he was forced to take the girl with him on this particular rescue mission.

He absolutely refused to marry her. She and others like her were slowly closing in on him though, to the point where he had been forced to make his sexual orientation known. It really hadn't helped. If anything, this particular juicy tidbit had fueled the fires and more women were throwing themselves at him than before. Unlike before, his percentage of male potential love interests went up as well. Maybe more like skyrocketed.

"Esmeralda, I would love to join you and speak of such things but I confess I have never been to the Philippines and would not be able to tell you of them. Besides, I had intended to eat with the crew belowdecks. Would you care to accompany me there?"

Harry's stylized speech was something he'd picked up over the years. Most worlds were not as advanced as his and the dialects were old, though easy enough to imitate.

He almost laughed out loud as her features quickly morphed into regal disgust and fear at his words before returning to the normal mask of sweetness she used to impress him. The best way to get rid of her was to threaten he with the commoners.

"Oh wont you eat with me in my cabin? Please? I have had the matey prepare a spread of the finest food this miserable boat has to offer."

Here she batted her eyelashes imploringly. Harry frowned. 'The finest spread' did not sound good. Who would allow her to pillage the stores? They needed that food for the return trip. It should not be wasted on Esmeralda's delicate sensibilities.

"No."

With that he walked away, distancing himself from her pleas. He honestly wasn't sure why he had never accepted the proposals of the various kingdoms that had heard of him. Even the people who were not so highborn as Esmeralda didn't seem to attract him. He rarely dated seriously and often found that his partners were not in it for him at all, but instead for the addition of his name to theirs. He could not find anyone who could fill him, make him whole as Ron had described when he started dating Hermione. He had died in the last years of Voldemort's second war. Harry missed him.

When he had expressed his frustrations to Hermione, she had smiled and said "Oh Harry. You are always worrying. You don't have to worry about this. It just means that when you do find your perfect someone, you will love them all the more."

Harry had brushed off the explanation. He didn't have a lot of time to think about it and on the scheme of things he supposed it didn't matter. Harry shook his head and made his way across the rolling deck, expertly swaying with the waves. He stopped at the mainmast and jumped up, catch a net placed for the purpose of climbing. He doubted Esmeralda could reach the crow's nest and so he often retreated there to avoid her when he wasn't willing to deal with her snobbery.

He made his way up to the basket, looking down only once to see the ants of the crew adjusting the sails for maximum speed. He sent the lookout down to the deck as he took over his duties. Getting bored with the safety that the nest provided for him, Harry looked up at the ten feet of tapering mast above the nest and smiled. Using the edge of the basket, he jumped up and grabbed the ring embedded in the very tip and allowed his feet to brace against the pole. He leaned out and looked to the horizon, enjoying the view and focusing on the islands embedded in the ocean.

As the sun set, Harry's silhouette was strikingly powerful and confident against the red sky as he leaned towards his goal. Looking up, the crew took heart from their commander's manner. He was the light of their lives and not a single one of them doubted that they would die for him. They knew he would do anything for them and that earned their feirce loyalty and deepest respect.

* * *

Hours later, the smoke had sprung up like a wall in front of them as they quietly drifted toward the harbor. The air was thick and cloying, causing the men to tie handkerchiefs around their mouths. It was derived of magically enhanced fires and Harry knew immediately that they were too late to save the city. He could only hope the castle held out against the invaders. As they came closer to the port, the soldiers silently took in the sight that came to them out of the clouds.

The houses were burning and the sounds of dying citizens reached to them across the water. There were dark soldiers everywhere, hacking at children and hewing off limbs. Some fought valiantly but all of them fell to the dark armies attack. The sound of warfare grew louder as they approached.

Esmeralda was not as subtle as the veteran soldiers when she saw the harbor. She immediately began screaming. Harry cursed and, instead of silencing her with a spell or killing her as he was more inclined to do, he slapped her hard across the face. Not as hard as he could, but certainly hard enough to bruise. She stopped and stared, obviously never having been touched violently before in her life.

Harry, stifling his triumphant feelings and trying hard not to shoot an answering grin at his comrades behind her, explained in a whisper "I am sorry but you must be quiet or you will get us all killed."

Before them lay the caved in and fiery ruins of the city of Fray. They had immediately set out 2 days ago in response to a distress call from the king to the United Empires Council. It was an alliance between the 13 nations of this world, one of which Harry had been visiting. Remus had moved to this world when Harry had stumbled upon it and had become the king's right hand man. Harry and his men volunteered to help. Fray was an important archipelago holding the most magical creatures and wizards of this world. It was known for its wise rulers and strong, united people. Everyone was educated in Fray. It was a worthy cause to try and save.

Oshald, his second in command, came up next to him after stowing the princess in the bowels of the ship for "her own safety."

Now he said, "An hour, maybe two has gone by since it's initial downfall."

Harry nodded in agreement.

"Go. Do not engage the enemy if you can help it. Save as many people as you can. Herd them to the harbor. Children have priority. Jacob!"

Oshald's apprentice ran forward. Harry was only a year older than him but he seemed to idolize the Boy Who Defeated The Dark Lord.

"Take the plane-key. When Oshald calls the clear, when he has saved everyone he can, take them out. We'll meet up in Haven."

The plane-key was a one-time deal. A seer in a world of white sand gave it to him. Harry had no qualms about using it, especially since he was saving peoples lives. It would transport the user to a destination of choice along with anyone he desired to bring along. It was a primitive type of portkey with the single advantage of touch being unecessary. Jacob would bring any survivors to Remus.

After ordering that the ship be anchored and defended, and that 5 of his men scout the position of the main body of the enemy and report through communication mirrors to Oshald, Harry dove off the railing and into the water, making very little splash or noise. He used his elemental powers and after a moment, the men on deck could see him lifting himself onto the levee to disappear into the smoke of the main street, the foreboding castle looming above him and screams echoing all around. He wanted to stop and help everyone he could see, but he had a job to do that would save more than these people's lives.

Oshald didn't stop to contemplate Harry's intent. He often had his own agenda and it usually somehow saved the world. He didn't doubt that Harry would return but in what state or with whom was something else entirely. He immediately began completing Harry's orders. They would probably have to get out quickly and he wanted to be ready to go. That, and he wanted to save as many people as possible. He had the men lower the boats, using silencing spells to preserve the secret of their arrival. He knew that sooner or later they would be spotted and then the mages on board would be hard at work defending the ship. Several wizards took to the air on brooms in order to scout the enemy's troops and assess how they had come to overrun the city. Oshald took his team and Jacob onto the lifeboats. Once they arrived at a fairly secluded dock, they spread out into the city, running towards the screamers and avoiding the fighting whenever possible.

Oshald sent 2 men to follow Harry up the main boulevard. He had no intention of helping Harry but he wanted to save as many as he could. He knew that where Harry went, there would be survivors.

Harry ran silently up the street toward the heart of the city. All around him people were dying. He witnessed animals as they attacked humans or ran from the flames. He saw the writhing shapes of men in the fires. He didn't pause in his run, though he sent his magic where he could. He doused the fires using his elemental powers and stabilized the buildings all around. He tried to give them a chance to save their lives but he knew it was woefully inadequate.

He ran on through the inner walls of the city. He began to get an idea of how the city defenses had guarded the castle. Likely, it took a long siege to bring down the outer walls. He was getting closer. He could tell that he was half an hour behind the influx of attackers rushing toward the central palace. He hoped that the king's personal guard was holding them off but he knew that they wouldn't last long. He needed to save the royal family if only because they were probably the main targets and their destruction would lead to despair or civil war in this place. Perhaps at a later date, the subdued people would rally to the current king's cause. Without him, peace was a long time in coming.

Reaching the castle's gates, Harry saw the building had been breached and he cursed his luck. The only way he could get to the inside of the castle would to somehow get past all of the attacking men and the defending guards. Harry looked up and saw the keystone of the arched portal. He showed his teeth in feral satisfaction and bent his knees, sinking low to the ground before exploding upward and latching onto the protruding stone with one hand, swinging slightly before expertly grabbing it with his other hand and hoisting himself up.

He found a torch bracket that he could use to pull himself the rest of the way up and he silently slipped onto the battlements of the wall. It was deserted. Wisely, the general or whoever commanded the troops on the walls had called everyone into the keep to make a last stand in the halls. Harry lightly ran the length of the wall, reaching the keep. He didn't stop his momentum at all and took a running leap for the lowest window. Even with his boots being a little more magically springy than most and with his powerful leg muscles, Harry just barely caught the ledge of the window.

Hanging there, Harry stopped to listen intently, before flinging himself up and through the window, daggers raised and a spell on his lips. Finding a simple room without much in the way of furniture or people, Harry quietly crept out into the hallway. There were 4 towers rising from the center of this building. Three surrounded a fourth larger one. He needed to get to the highest tower. It was the king's only chance and he had probably retreated there with his family. Taking a right, Harry quickly made his way towards the middle of the building, all of his senses high strung, looking for both friend and foe.

Often, he came upon the bodies of women and children. He passed them by, noting that they were dead and beyond saving. He found a steep winding staircase that he predicted led up one tower, though not the one he wanted. He began to climb upwards. Harry found a window facing toward the higher tower in the middle of the staircase and looked out. It was long way over.

He looked across to the window adjacent to him. He saw the defending soldiers running toward the battle line just out of view. He guessed that they were slowly being pushed back. With new vigor, he ran up a few more turns of the staircase. The other tower was 20 feet away and Harry would probably not make it. He generated a wind behind him, swirling and waiting to be unleashed. Then, he took the stairs at a sprint diving out of the window and releasing the wind behind him.

Harry had underestimated his own ability to get across. He expected to just maybe get to the windowsill or more likely fall to his death. He soared over the gap between towers and the roof 50 feet below that separated them. He flew through the window at a high velocity and slammed into the far wall of the corridor, cracking his head on the wall and falling to the ground.

He groaned quietly and almost drunkenly got to his feet. He sighed at the sight of a dead defender pushed into the wall below the window he had entered from. So much for getting beyond the battle line. Harry suspected that the defenders he had seen fighting lower in the tower were just a group that was fighting where they could. That did not bode at all well for the remaining people in the top of the tower. The enemy had probably reached them.

Harry shook his head and transformed into his animagus form. There was a mixed reaction regarding Harry's form. Most people approved and thought that it was suitably powerful. Others wondered why he wasn't a phoenix. Harry just shrugged and said he liked being a panther. It was fun to run in. Usually a wizard does not have any magical powers when they transform. For that reason, Harry did a bit of slightly illegal but very gratifying blood magic. With it, he added a bit of an extra boost to his already strong cat. He modeled his modification on the Black Flame that the Black family inherited in all of its bloodline. Tonks was very mad at him when he asked that she demonstrate it everyday for a week. She finally snapped at him and burnt his notes. The end result was worth it though. While in his cat form, he could command a beautiful green flame that he enjoyed sending after any would-be attackers. The only other magic he could perform as a panther was his elemental powers as they were more closely tied into his soul.

Now he used his form because he wanted to get up the stairs faster.

Harry bounded up, avoiding bodies by launching off the walls, and reached the door of the room at the top of the tower quickly. He slashed one invader across the chest, killing him instantly as he came upon him. Harry barreled through the door but strangely attracted no attention from the occupants. Harry stopped to take in the fight happening before him.

A/N I continue to dislike this chapter but I can't really write a better introduction. I will continue to improve it but please, take it with a grain of salt and know that Im not very happy with it.

I know this isn't the best place to stop but when I redid everything, I wanted the chapters to be relatively even. This just happened to be the best place within the 4000ish word count. I think, reading this last bit, you can even tell that it was never meant as a stopping point. That said, you can just hit the 'next' button and continue.

For those of you who don't know, a dinghy is a little rowboat.

Also, I want to explain the meaning behind Harry's title. Originally, I was looking for something Latin that would have a nice meaning. I thought of different ways of saying strength or myth or something like that. I finally settled on Facis because it has two roots. One is the same as Façade and Face. I wanted to clearly show that the hero that everyone obsesses about is, in fact, unreal. Not to say that this entire world isn't unreal-- As if you needed any more double negatives. Anyway, the whole 'man behind the myth' is something im trying to play up. I was really going for the double life concept: ordinary person by day, superhero by night. Second root is the same as Facula, a small blemish on the surface of the sun. I liked the fire reference and that is probably where I thought up Harry's dragon tattoo (appearing later). Also, I liked the idea that Facis was actually a small irregular part of the large character that is Harry Potter. I want Harry to be bigger and better than the narrow vision of a superhero.

Please review before going on though. I want to know your impressions as you go.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was not unexpected that the king's guard would be here to defend the royal line but the determination in the young man in front of him was inspiring and his grace and defiance was the stuff of legends. He held a sword in a defensive position, glaring at the men all around him. He was standing in a circle of 8 black clad invaders who looked wary of attacking. He was protecting a young girl and the body of a young man. The man was clearly unconscious Harry saw, as his chest rose and fell with his breathing. That, he knew, was the eldest prince of Fray, by the heir ring on his finger. The little girl was clutching at the heir, desperately trying to wake him.

The young defender had felled five men before Harry arrived and, by the look on the remaining men's faces, he seemed to be an expert swordsman. Harry doubted that he could hold out against the remainder whilst still standing in front of the girl. After his moment of hesitation, watching as the attackers pressed in, Harry roared to shift the mens' attention. Instead of stopping to stare as his opponents did, the guard struck two of his enemies down while they weren't looking. Harry's estimation of him rose immediately.

Harry, wanting to end this quickly before another wave of intruders came, used his blood magic to send green flames shooting like streams across the floor towards three of the men, engulfing them even as their comrades turned back to fend off the swordsman's strokes. Not listening to their screams, Harry launched himself at one of the others, digging his claws into his face and raising his lips to reveal angry fangs. Not waiting to fall with the now dead body, Harry sprang off his victim and jumped to the next. He rode this one to the ground, bashing the man's head on the ground and snapping his neck.

The third, wielding a club, sent the cat flying into the wall, where he slumped to the ground, momentarily stunned. The head injury he'd sustained earlier prevented him from recovering quickly. The man glared down at him, about to finish it off, when the guard came up behind him and, grabbing him by the forehead and chin, broke his neck in one firm and final twist. There was silence, save for the girl's ragged breathing and the thump as the body hit the ground.

Harry got to his feet and shook himself, looking over at this brave man. Harry was surprised to see the sword leveled at him in a calm but very tense and ready manner. He was expecting the panther to attack. Harry slowly and calmly advanced on him, making sure to make no sudden movements. As he did, he studied him. The guard was an average height and wore fairly non-descript clothing. He had gauntlets carved with Runes and a Runic pendant around his neck, probably a luck charm. His hair was a lovely auburn that flickered in the light of the corpses that burned with the green fire. His features were sharp and defined; his eyes were shadowed and impossible to see.

Harry was unsure of what to do. He didn't want to frighten them anymore than they already were.

* * *

Prince Astyr of Fray was trembling. He was terribly afraid for his sister and brother who were defenseless behind him. He had been fighting for three days on the outer walls of the city and had led parties of soldiers to attack outside them. He was one of the only wizards the city had to offer and one of the few who could stave off the magical attacks of the enemy. He was exhausted and could barely stay on his feet as he swayed in front of the panther before him. He couldn't even defend them with his staff, which he had lost an hour ago.

He didn't understand its presence or its intentions towards him. Animals had their own agendas and they didn't usually involve picking sides in a war. Magical creatures like this one would never approach a human war. He saw the intelligence in the cat's fierce green eyes and knew that he was being judged.

The cat hesitantly walked toward him, as though HE were the animal that might attack at any moment. Astyr saw a flicker of something, some emotion, as the cat stopped and regarded him, seemed to consider the situation, and returned to its advancing. Acting on some instinct, he flung the sword to the side and stood arms spread at his sides, palms up, waiting to see what the beast would do. It was a risk but it left his hands free in case the cat did attack. Astyr was pretty sure he could draw an exploding rune before the cat could take him down. Surprisingly, it immediately relaxed. Astyr watched it carefully.

The cat, quicker than Astyr anticipated, walked around him. He looked behind him, fearful of what it would do to Isabel, his sister. He was amazed when, instead of going over to sniff the girl or kill her, it turned right at him again and crouched down, sliding between the prince's legs. The cat stood up tall, bringing the prince with him. Astyr nearly fell off then from shock and lost balance. He clutched at its neck and squeezed his knees into its ribs. The cat yowled and Astyr quickly relaxed his legs enough to let the thing breathe.

Astyr twisted to look at his sister. She smiled up at him reassuringly and touched the little black button on their older brother's belt. Their father had given it to him before he died. He had said "There is no use in your death, Fenton. This will bring you to safety. You must trigger it when you are in danger. Fray cannot survive without the heir." Fenton had taken it unwillingly but then, he always was a hero. Isabel often compared him to the legendary Facis whose exploits were known to many worlds.

Fenton had made them promise not to use the button on him should he fall, but to take the belt and send the little girl away. Unwilling to leave him behind and seeing as it only took one person, they had stayed with his unconscious body, ready to fight until the end before using the button to escape.

Now, Fenton disappeared and the girl approached the lethal cat warily.

It just waited patiently, its tail thrashing in worry, but holding firm for the girl to come closer. Astyr grabbed her up and put her behind him on the magnificent animal's back. Harry, finding himself loaded, exploded into action. There was a startled yelp and a grunt from his passengers as he turned quickly and ran for the stairs. There, they encountered a large number of armed men just coming up to the door. Turning again, the cat raced back through the room, vaulting the flaming bodies. Behind him, the invaders threw daggers and shot arrows at their retreating form. The cat put on a burst of speed and unbelievably jumped out the window of the room, arrows thunking into the wood on all sides.

From far away, an onlooker might see a large object plummet from the highest tower of the palace, silently falling towards doom. Behind the tower, the flames from the palace soared. But like a phoenix, in the faint glow of the predawn light and the flickering of the fires below, the object flared. Green fire engulfed the figure and a green pulse of power flared out, slowing its fall. The figure's fire spread out to create huge wings, the span of which was 6 times the size of the object. The wings caught the wind and the object soared up into the sun, brighter than its rays and more wonderful to behold.

* * *

Harry had never done this before. He had never really found a limit to the green fire. Now he wished he had. He had been acting out of pure instinct when he fell towards the ground. He had pulsed and used his mind in a way that harnessed the power and directed it. He found that he rather enjoyed his flight and his passengers seemed delighted. He decided later that he would not tell them that he hadn't actually known what he was doing. His plan B would have been to transform mid-fall and catch them all with a cushioning charm. This was a little bit better.

Harry knew his wings were costing him his magical reservoirs so he dove toward the ground recklessly. All those years of quidditch made him extremely comfortable in the air and his dive was similar to those he experienced when after the snitch. He leveled out as he approached the ground while the girl whimpered and the man dug his knees into Harry's ribs, saying nothing.

He touched down at a run and bounded toward the harbor. He had confirmed that the man who had lain unconscious on the ground was the heir and, given the crown in his hands, the king was most likely dead. He had watched the magic around the black button and recognized it for the transport that it was. He knew it probably went to one of the friendly countries and that he would be alright. Now he just wanted everyone to be safe. Especially the guard on his back.

As they ran through the streets, a bubble of flame preceded them, pushing back but not harming the fighting men in their path. The fighters became thicker as they descended to the water. The Dinghy was being attacked strongly having caught the attention of dark wizards.

Jacob, it seemed, had already left with the remaining people of the city, as Harry could find no trace of a surviving mob. Harry reached the levee and took a flying leap. In cat form, he could jump farther than in his own but it wouldn't have fit through the windows in the staircases. Even with his leg muscles however, the ship was a long way off and Harry had to bring out the flame once more to glide in through the shields on the Dinghy. He landed, skidding on the deck. His men knew what he was, though Esmeralda did not and, having somehow escaped from her prison, she shrieked at the sight of him. Oshald, glaring once at the blonde, addressed the panther.

"Out?"

That was all that seemed necessary as the panther nodded once and Oshald began barking out orders. Harry's passengers stiffly removed themselves and Harry found himself wishing the young man would stay. In slight frustration but more out of need, Harry roared. It was long and drawn out and completely ill suited for his task. He did it because he was tired and didn't feel like doing anything silently. The men's hands all went to their ears and the girl cowered slightly in fear, though she didn't run. Astyr stared at him, not bothering to cover his ears, and knowing it was pointless as the roar was magical. At first he didn't know what the cat had done. But soon a steady gust from over the land came to send the ship as far from Fray as it would allow. The boat sped ahead of the waves, making good time and leaving the enemy far behind.

Harry stalked toward his cabin. He didn't want to frighten them anymore than he already had and he knew turning into a man might alienate them in his presence. He stayed in cat form until he magically shut the door, feeling the guard's eyes burning after him. He transformed and quietly waited for Oshald to make an appearance. He needed to know what had actually happened in the city and how many people they had saved. Especially he needed to know how damaged the country really was, now that it's capital was destroyed.

Astyr was given a bunk next to his sister's. In deference to the little girl, they had given them the bunks in the far corner of the hold with as few men on either side as possible. The few men that did share sides with their bunks were very nice and were the least sketchy of the lot. Astyr was actually quite surprised when he found that the crewmembers were not only very experienced sailors, but also the best soldiers he had ever encountered. Some, he noted, wore different symbols announcing their specialty in certain magics. Astyr had never been around so many people that could perform magic before.

When he mentioned this, they had smiled and told him that the best were sent to save the city of Fray. Finding the city in ruins, they had saved those people that they could. When asked who their commander was or what country they hailed from, they just smiled kindly and said that the alliance sent them. Somehow, Astyr couldn't be angry, just slightly frustrated. His sister long asleep, he stayed up playing cards with the men off duty. It was a good way to unwind and lose some of the restlessness that came after such a big battle.

Astyr was very careful as he spoke to the men. He didn't want to come off as a prince. He had grown up exploring the streets of Fray and knew well enough how to blend in. He wanted everyone to focus on his sister so that she would make it to safety with as many people protecting her as possible. If Astyr announced his status, he would become the top priority and he would not allow that to happen.

"I don't understand. Why would the Council send 50 men to save an entire city? I do not doubt that you are excellent soldiers, but it is suicide to send so few and hope for victory."

Astyr expressed this as he laid down an ace.

Grinning victoriously, the soldier across from him drew a card and passed his turn. Then he addressed the young prince.

"Indeed. We did not expect to live through the night. The city had only just fallen when we arrived. It is truly unfortunate that we could not die for its cause."

He sounded genuinely regretful. Astyr stared. Since when did soldiers wish to die for good causes?

"You would die for people you don't know, a country you don't belong to?"

The soldier laughed. "No, dear boy. I might die in defense of some poor maiden or perhaps even some poor lad fighting for their life. Certainly, should we be attacked now, I would die for you or any of my comrades. But to go off and find a war to fight in? That is pure madness! No. No, we fight for our commander. We are loyal to him and his cause. What he believes is a worthy fight is always worth dieing for."

"Did any of your men die tonight?"

"No. Only a few were even injured. We are very good at what we do. I believe we saved three or four hundred of the citizens. It was well worth it."

"Who is this wondrous commander?" Astyr was almost bursting with curiosity.

Oshald hesitated. Then he said, "His name is Harry. He doesn't usually go by that name but it is his by birth. I think he is interested in you."

He added that last as a speculative afterthought. After briefing Harry, the man had expressed a keen interest in the 'guard' that he had saved. Harry spoke excitedly and said he could not wait to speak with him. Oshald did not think Harry wanted his name to be a secret to the boy.

"But… He has never even met me!"

Oshald just smiled knowingly.

Suddenly the other man playing the game piped up: "Don't trouble yourself, boy. You will meet him formally tomorrow. Or perhaps informally. Depends if he likes you or not."

"What do you mean?"

"Well there are very few people the commander doesn't like. Those people, he avoids like the plague. He speaks stiffly with them and in clipped sentences." He guffawed and said, "In fact, most of these people are female such as our dearest Esmeralda."

"Sounds like he's just not very good with women. I know the feeling."

"No, no. He is wonderful with women. He is a good guy. Handsome. No, all the girls flock to him. He just isn't interested."

The man shrugged and threw in his cards. "I fold." He added.

"Was that cat, the one with the green fire, was that his pet?" The prince was doubtful. That cat didn't seem like it would let anyone own it.

"In a manner of speaking, yes." Oshald said with humor.

No more on the subject was spoken and Astyr found his bed with more questions than when he had started the game. Tomorrow, He thought. Tomorrow I will meet this mystery.

The next morning dawned bright and clear. The water was calm and the wind was sparse. The night had brought them almost completely out of sight from the islands. Harry was up early, watching the sunrise. He had thought about it a great deal and had decided not to inform their guests that he was the Great Facis until absolutely necessary. He sat on the edge of the crow's nest, contemplating life and swinging his legs over the long drop to the deck.

Astyr was also up early. He made sure his sister was alright before running up to the deck to see what he could do to help the crew.

"Gary!"

A soldier he had befriended the night before grinned over at him and shouted, "Hey there laddy! How about you grab that rope there and pull as hard as you can, aye?"

"Aye."

He smiled at the word and ran over to the rope, tugging on it enthusiastically. Gary laughed and showed him how best to force the rope without straining himself. Astyr was delighted as the sail he was working on began to lift. With a minimal crew during the night (after the initial flight from the harbor at Fray), fewer sails had been set up. Now the morning had come and they all went to work assembling and lifting the rest of the sails for maximum speed during the day.

"HEAVE!" Gary yelled over to the boy, pulling on his own rope powerfully.

Astyr almost slid with all of his weight on the rope. He was very surprised when the rope stopped resisting and the sail shot up into place. Astyr tumbled backwards and found himself flat on the deck looking up at the sky. He wore an amused face as Gary became helpless with laughter. This was nice. It was fun and friendly.

He squinted into the sun, looking up to the top of the mast. There, he could make out the figure of a man sitting on the edge of the nest, one leg hanging over the side and the other drawn up to his chest. His hands wrapped around his leg lightly and he seemed to be looking out to sea at nothing in particular.

Astyr was amazed. Such balance! This man was sure to fall as the next wave took the ship. He stared upward as the man seemed to ride the waves unconsciously, uncaringly. Should a huge wave hit, he would be a goner. And yet he seemed unconcerned.

"Who's that?" he asked Gary curiously.

Gary looked to where he pointed and smiled lightly, saying, "That's our commander. He really is a great sailor. Best legs of the bunch."

He gestured over to the barebacked forms of the other sailors, tightening ropes and fixing rigging.

Astyr spent the rest of the morning smiling and laughing with the crewmembers. Every once in a while, he would glance up at the man who hadn't moved at all since he had first caught sight of him. Astyr speculated that, if the man weren't swaying with the mast's movements, he would seem more of a statue than anything else.

Once, he was given the opportunity to climb the nets that led to the middle of the mainmast to help fix a broken stay. Apparently enemies had attacked the ship from the shore and it had suffered minimal fire damage. As Astyr leant away from the mast, pulling on the wood to snap it into place, he looked up once to see the face of the man the crew seemed to both idolize and tease. He did not see much of it but got the impression of black hair blown back in the wind, dragon hide boots reaching to just below his knees and the slow rise of his chest as he breathed in the scenery.

* * *

Harry wasn't paying attention to anything at the moment. In his mind, he replayed the images of last night, comparing the man's beauty to the men he had encountered in the past. Certainly there were more pleasing men, he thought. Draco Malfoy, his childhood nemesis had made peace with him during their last year of school. They had shared drinks in a bar close to kings cross and tried to impress each other with their stories. Often they were exaggerated in peculiar ways. Draco was prone to exaggerating his own beauty and tumescence but usually depicted himself screaming like a girl and hiding behind a rock or convenient table when it came to combat. Harry exaggerated his large ears, which seemed to fly him to the enemy as which point his smell would distract them, allowing him to claim victory.

Ironically, Draco became a war hero and was currently the general of DON, fighting against the newest dark threat to the world. He had been at war for 2 years. Certainly Draco was the most beautiful man he had ever seen. He was comparable to the elves he had encountered deep within the forbidden forest. Veelas were hard pressed to outdo the handsome aristocrat. Yet Harry had little feeling for Draco in anything more than a companion or friendly way.

The man he had saved last night, however… He was another matter entirely. His hair was messily attractive and reached to his ears. It was auburn in color and seemed to capture the moonlight. Harry was anticipating seeing his crush in the daylight. Indeed, he admitted to himself, he was beginning to indulge in a healthy obsession. His features were elegant but strong and his cheekbones were high but not sharp. His body, of what Harry had glimpsed and felt during the ride last night was strong and well worked. Harry had little doubt that he was well toned and no stranger to hard labor. Harry blushed at the thoughts this produced and in memory of the dream he'd had the night before.

Harry had once had a great attraction for a merman. He had accompanied him on a trip onto the land, transfiguring his tail into legs and his voice box into something more human. Being green and always having his blue hair flowing slightly had intrigued Harry who was used to more human looks. He had been 16 and they had quickly struck up a relationship. Despite having strict cultural aversions toward bodily contact, there is a lot a merman can teach you about relationships, pressure points, and exactly how flexible the human body can be. Most of his experience came from him. They had parted when the merman, Fate had regretfully informed Harry that they were not meant to be and that Harry was waiting for someone else while he was looking for a true mate. Harry, surprisingly, had taken the break up well. He knew, deep down, that the merman was not his destiny.

They remained wonderful friends and Harry often encountered him in the worlds he visited. They had the same friends and usually planned to meet up in a place they both were visiting. They would talk for hours and Harry found that they were closer even than he and Ron had been. Harry was actually anticipating meeting with him and Remus on his return to Haven. He knew that he could bring this particular man problem to his friend.

A loud splash broke him out of his reverie followed by the sickening feeling of the ship being stopped exactly in its path. The crew below him all fell to their knees but Harry simply rode it out. He cursed inwardly as he looked to the side, towards the source of the splash. There, its head ten feet above Harry's own, was a large sea monster. Distantly, Harry noted that it was probably close to one hundred years old, a relatively average age and size. Its huge, serpentine neck curled lower, its eyes sank down to meet Harry's own. He smiled grimly into them.

The body was looped around and beneath the boat, holding it in place for the sea monster to attack.

* * *

A/N So I'm not happy with this chapter either. I don't like the flow of it and there are some things that I wanted to incorporate but they either wouldn't work or weren't practical. I go too fast in some areas and grossly descriptive in others. I guess I'll fix it again later.

Please tell me what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 3

* * *

The crash brought Astyr to one knee. He looked up to find a horrible monster before him, its large body taking up his entire vision. He snapped his head up to see the monster and Captain eyeing each other, the man having finally moved from his immobile state. He watched as Harry launched himself at the beast.

* * *

Harry was well aware that he was being watched. He could feel the eyes burning into his mind as he jumped for the snaky head. Even as he occupied himself with a way to kill a magic resistant sea monster, he hoped he wasn't making an ass out of himself. For some reason, he really wanted the young guard to like him.

He ran across the head as it tilted up, snapping at the offending human that had jumped on top of it. The monster vainly tried to dislodge the nimble mage, shaking and twisting its neck. In its preoccupation, it loosened its hold on the Dinghy. Using its scales as handholds, Harry scrambled the length of the head and found himself at an impasse. The neck sloped before him, spiked scales on either side of its vertebrae like a stegosaurus, and the entire thing thrashed wildly. The head seemed to be an island in the sky.

Harry's hesitation gave the beast the moment it needed and Harry found himself flung forward. He only just saved himself, grabbing a fleshy stegosaurus scale and hanging on. Later he would laugh. Here was another thing that had never happened to him before. The creature didn't seem to realize Harry was still on it and arched its neck so that it could better gobble up Harry's men. It screeched, causing the crew to hold their ears in pain.

The crew hadn't stopped to watch their leader, knowing he would be fine. Instead, they had endeavored to take down the sails as quickly as possible, saving the fragile canvas from tear. The mages in the group began to create wards and stabilize the hull but it was mostly precautionary. The creature could not be affected by magic, making its scales one of the most highly prized materials for making armor and neutralizing volatile potions.

Harry found himself laying on top of the thing's neck. Quickly he stood and called down to the most recognizable crewmember.

"Ben. Harpoon the eye."

Somewhere, he reflected as he crouched to take out his daggers, in some catacomb, a monk or scribe was recording each of his exploits to be published as a novel and circulated throughout the different universes he had visited. A monk or Rita. Hopefully he'd be dead by the time that happened.

Astyr, after telling his sister to hide in the hold, looked toward Ben as the boy retrieved a harpoon from a storage bin. He watched as he began sprinting for the bow of the boat to get the best shot. The beast's claws seemed to want to follow him and one clipped Ben's shoulder, sending him to the deck. Astyr cursed and summoned the harpoon to him wordlessly, hoping that nobody noticed. He tied a rope to the shaft's end and tied the other end to an unused cleat amidships. He aimed and, just as Harry dove off the thing's head, fired it into the creature's malevolent eye.

Harry's jump was strategic. He had his daggers out and, as he was falling, he dug them into the flesh of the neck where it was most tender near the head. In reaction, the monster reared its head up away from the ship in pain. It screamed in even more agony as the harpoon hit its eye. Knowing the eye on this side had been taken care of, Harry dug his daggers deeper and allowed them to rip the skin. It was a thick blue grey and held his daggers nicely.

The harpoon would have injured it severely, probably lodging in its brain. Even as Harry worked his daggers, the body was stiffening as it lost hold of its motor functions. Eventually it would die but Harry wanted a quicker end that wouldn't risk the health of his shipmates. Finding the most delicate skin was to his right, Harry drew back one fist and punched his right dagger as hard as he could into its windpipe.

It screamed and Harry felt the vibrations of it in his entire body, so close as he was to the source. Putting all his weight on his right dagger, he punched the left one in as well and allowed his body to fall free of the creature, putting his entire body weight on the bloody knives.

The flesh ripped beneath him and he and his daggers slid the length of the seizing sea monster. The stiff neck shook but could not move as it was paralyzed by the harpoon. Blood followed him down and Harry found himself nearly drowning in the thick red tide.

He fell as he hit the top of the rib cage with his daggers and plummeted into the bright red water below. The Sea Monster floundered and quickly lost its strength. Its body left the Dinghy altogether and its head and neck fell lifelessly to the water, causing a wave that rocked the boat. The line running to its eye socket ripped free, a small chunk of wood tied to the end, all that was left of the harpoon still residing in the thing's eye. It's body sunk out of sight.

Harry surfaced in a world of red. Vaguely he turned and spotted the ship to one side. He started to stroke towards it. He encountered the floating bit of wood and grabbed hold. One of the men began pulling him in.

Harry happily allowed himself to be towed through the blood-thickened waters. He was not inclined to swim through it. As he reached the side, he used the design setup in the wood to help him climb up. As it was, he still needed the rope. As he reached the deck, he swung himself unceremoniously over the side and managed to land on his towline benefactor and most recent love interest.

Harry found himself face to face and body to body with the man he had saved the night before. Just bloody wonderful. First contact and I'm head to toe soaked in blood. Fate seemed to love toying with him (Or maybe it was an amused fanfic writer?). Harry could feel the other's racing heartbeat, could feel his own matching its pace. Green eyes met hazel and for a fraction of a second, neither could look away. Harry pushed himself up, briefly increasing contact in order to lift off of him. He grinned sheepishly over at the other man who also got to his feet.

"Sorry about that. That was just pure, dumb, bad luck." He offered an uncertain smile, waiting for an angry or disgusted reaction.

* * *

Harry's accent was unique. Astyr didn't think he had ever heard anything like it. The sailor's accents had been slightly different as well, but not to the extent that Harry's was. He opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by the melodic ringing of a woman's trill.

"Commander! Oh that was absolutely marvelous! You were brilliant, Commander, brilliant!"

Esmeralda came from her hiding place behind the porthole of her cabin. She simpered up at him, laying it on thick and caressing Harry's arm possessively. Harry, out of sorts from his first introduction to Astyr, didn't notice. He was trying much too hard not to ravish the attractive man on sight and welcomed the distraction of the princess happily. He smiled slightly, looking down at her, appearing loving to Astyr. Something in the Prince died. He forced a smile on his face as he observed the couple.

Harry looked over to him and quirked a smile saying, "Forgive me?"

Astyr could only nod into his gaze.

"This is just another of your amazing accomplishments! The queen, my mother, will love you for this exploit, saving me from danger! It must have been but a trifle annoyance to you, my king. After all you are Commander F—"

"—Yes, well," Harry cut in, "No need to boast. My name…"

Here he hesitated. He did NOT want Esmeralda to know his name. Knowing her, it would be spread and he could no longer use his birthright. He wanted this man to know it however. He wanted to be friends with this person, whose name was as much a mystery as the thoughts behind those lovely hazel eyes.

Oshald cut in, "Sir! I hate to intrude but a matter concerning cut rigging demands your attention. If you would just step over here…"

Ah. Thank god for good men. Oshald sniggered as Harry followed him towards the stern.

"Oshald. You have dibs on my first born child."

Harry then began taking over the assortment of ropes. He wasn't really needed but he had to follow through with the excuse. It would give him more time to think of what he wanted Mr. Mystery to call him.

Astyr sighed as he watched the commander walk away. He had learned Harry's name last night. He just wanted to be properly introduced. The man was an enigma. Nowhere but in legends did Astyr find such heroism and triumph. There, walking away from him was a man. He was as human as Astyr himself and had the limbs, strength, and smell of a normal man. The hero who walked away was human. It struck him that he couldn't be much older than Astyr himself. Astyr felt he had a lot of thinking to do.

"Boy, fetch me some water. My voice has gone hoarse from fright for the Commander's life."

Esmeralda sneered down at him. She was a foot shorter and yet somehow managed to be above him in every way possible. Astyr recognized the demeanor from his own suitors.

"Excuse me, Miss…?" He tried.

"That is Her Highness Princess Esmeralda to you, scum. Water! Now!" She demanded petulantly, every inch the annoying highbred princess.

Raising an eyebrow and noticing the rolling of Gary's eyes behind her, Astyr decided to humor her and went off in search of water, after he checked on Isabel of course.

"No casualties, Harry, and two injured. We're lucky we aren't all dead."

Harry grimaced. "Who?"

Oshald sighed, "Vera got a cut. Ben got caught by a claw."

Harry frowned. The creature had let go of the ship once Harry was slitting its throat. How had the creature gotten him after he shot the harpoon?

"Did Ben shoot the harpoon?"

Oshald looked surprised. "No. No, the boy shot it. He has impeccable aim. It was fired just so that the tip ripped through the eye and out the back of the damn things head. The harpoon is still lodged there. The shaft snapped under the beast's weight."

Harry looked over to the guard, currently grabbing some water from a barrel lashed to the mast. He regarded him with new interest. So he had saved his life, huh? They were square. They had an even playing field now. Harry smirked.

"Have him and the little one eat in my cabin with me tonight. If the bitch asks, tell her I am trying to get information about the situation in Fray and can't spare the time to talk with her."

Oshald smiled knowingly. He knew the look on the young savior's face. He was just happy the boy had found someone to catch his interest. Oshald had feared he would turn hard and cold as he found no love in all the worlds he routinely helped. It was nice that Harry was finally getting his due from fate. Lord knows he had certainly earned it.

Making sure Gary would assign the guard sentry duty in the crow's nest, Harry made his way up to his favorite perch. When it was time, he hoisted himself up and balanced standing on the very tip of the mast. This was dangerous, even for Harry. He had an excellent center of gravity due to long bouts of meditation and occlumency in strangely high places but a large wave or something as jarring as the sea monsters arrival would send him plummeting to the deck below. Even with the help of a subtle sticking charm, Harry had to concentrate to hold the position. Harry had confidence that he could either magic himself to safety, or at least turn cat and land lightly. But then the game would be up, the young man would recognize him and he would be alienated forever.

* * *

Astyr climbed the mast, Harry hidden from view behind the many sails between them. He was sure he would enjoy the nest, seeing as Esmeralda would never climb up there and the last few hours had found him doing chores for her. He didn't want to but he knew he had to keep up the façade of being a guard so that the men would give his sister, the sole princess of Fray, priority should danger arrive. That and he didn't want to have to be formally addressed. He had come to love the companionship between the crew and didn't want to give that up. His presence would also be threatening to Esmeralda if she found out he was a prince and could likely win more favor with the Commander. Not that she needed more power, he thought bitterly. She probably had him wrapped around her little finger.

* * *

He ascended to the nest with little regard for his surroundings, allowing Harry to get a good look at him. He was powerful and confident on his own feet. He had quickly adapted to his sea legs, making Harry wonder if he had had experience on a boat before. He leaned lightly on the edge of the basket, looking longingly to the horizon and sighed. He was wearing a simple vest over a white shirt that was common for this world.

The world was not technologically advanced but seemed to have revolutionary agriculture. Their system was old and desirable and Harry could understand how Remus would love it. The young man's hair blew crazily in the wind and his shirt pressed against his chest, revealing tense muscles and strong arms. He was wiry, built much like Harry himself and had an unreadable face that enhanced his mystery.

Feeling his conversational vocabulary lacking and yet the undeniable need to address him, Harry blurted out, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

He inwardly cursed himself. Oh real suave, Potter.

Astyr jumped and looked up, a dagger raised before him and a hand ready to trace a defensive rune but he quickly lowered them. There, with his arms spread wide and a peaceful look upon his face, was Harry, standing like an angel on the highest point of the ship. Harry hopped down and held out a hand, smiling into Astyr's stunned eyes. Astyr shook it slowly.

"Harry." The Commander said, his eyes searching, obviously looking for a response.

Astyr thought quickly. What would he tell him? His name might be recognized as that of the youngest prince of Fray. It wasn't really a common name after all. He decided he would have to risk it. Harry deserved to know.

Inwardly cringing, he said, "Astyr."

Astyr. Astyr. It was gorgeous. The name flowed through Harry's mind like honey syrup. He briefly acknowledged that any name would have caused this reaction but he was a little too caught up by the guard to care.

"Astyr." He said, tasting it. "It is a pleasure. I have requested that you and the young Princess eat with me tonight. I would love to get to know my passengers. The Dinghy can get boring with so many familiar faces. It is refreshing to find a new one."

"Dine with me? I would be delighted, however I would think your fiancé would wish to join…" Astyr responded regretfully.

"What fiancé…? Oh, Esmeralda! No, she isn't my fiancé." He said with good humor.

"What is she then…?"

"An annoying git. Ahem. She is the Crown Princess of Saird Nole, Most Holy of Empires, Largest Country in Eastern Parsh, Highest of the Three Central Powers, Domineering power of Parsh…" He rattled off the titles in a bored and clinic clip, adding "Most Royal of the Pains in My Ass."

Astyr laughed. So Harry had a sense of humor. Good. Most generals acted like they had a broom stuck up their butts, interfering with walking and those funny nerves that illicit laughter.

Harry was delighted at the sound of Astyr's laughter. He wanted to produce more of it, as quickly as he could.

"She's probably not as bad as she seems. Somewhere deep down, she has a heart of gold. Very deep down…"

He trailed off and Astyr finished his train of thought with, "More like a kernel. And probably it serves her only as a dragon's horded gold, caves of cold and snobbery encircling it and glaciers of hatred covering it, denying access to us treasure seeking humans."

Harry was surprised into laughter himself. He did not expect Astyr to speak, having heard so little of his voice.

Harry sobered, addressing Astyr humbly, "Astyr, I would like to thank you. Had you not taken up the harpoon when Ben was felled, I would surely be dead. You are courageous, for one so young."

Amazingly (to Harry) Astyr scoffed. "I am certainly barely younger than you yourself. I have 19 winters and your courage surely outmatches mine."

Harry smiled. Good! They were similar in age. Harry wanted to croon in happiness but thought better of it. He had been worried that he looked old but was really 16 or even 15. Harry doubted he could in good faith think so lustfully of someone who hadn't finished growing yet.

"I myself am 20. It is the single year that makes all of the difference. During that year foolishness and courage increase dramatically because that is when you realize you are truly invincible."

"If my foolishness should grow, I doubt I will reach my 20th birthday." He responded, thinking of the cat that had almost mauled him last night, when he had flung aside his sword and left his life in the hands of fate.

Harry smiled, content to share this time with Astyr. He immediately jumped on guard however at Astyr's next question.

"Where did you grow up? I hear your accent that is so foreign to me. Never in any of the markets of the city or my father's—the ports of commerce have I heard its like."

Harry could find no answer and so said nothing. An awkward hush fell upon the basket.

Oh no. I have stepped too far. He will hate me now. Astyr thought frantically of how he could remedy the situation.

"I apologize." He said formally. "I went too far."

Harry looked over to the downcast face of the man next to him. His heart went out to him and he said kindly, "It is a sensitive issue. You did not go to far. It is a legitimate question. I am truly sorry but I cannot answer it."

Astyr nodded once, waiting to be dismissed. Sensing this, Harry endeavored to strike up their conversation once more.

"What does your name mean? I feel like it means star though I never was very good at astronomy."

"It does." He said quietly. Then he added, "I do not understand my parents' choice. I do not like it very much."

Shocked, Harry blurted without thinking, "But it's a gorgeous name!"

Both of them blushed and hoped the other would attribute it toward the cold or the wind.

"I appreciate your attempt but no one could possibly convince me of its merit."

"Perhaps I will have to find a way, Sparkle." Harry said, not really noticing his own words.

"What? What did you just call me?"

Harry grinned at Astyr's tone.

"Sparkle." He teased.

"How about I call you Shaggy or—or Furry and we'll see who's laughing?" Astyr countered, refferring to the meaning of Harry's name.

Harry started coughing. Was that a blatant referral? Harry wondered. But no. This world wouldn't have that slang. Harry's face went very red and he felt he was in school again, asking Cho Chang to the ball. Then he got a wicked idea. He wouldn't know the meaning, so where's the harm?

"Oh how much I'd like to shag you right now."

Astyr laughed, interpreting something more innocent out of the longing phrase.

"Shag me? Losing your hold on the English vocabulary, are you?"

If only you knew, Harry mused.

With a knowing smile, he said, "Perhaps."

They talked until dinnertime, the sounds of laughter echoing down to the crew below. They simply grinned, loving the sound of their hero being happy. A boy his age required more laughter than he had had in his short life. It was good for him.

Esmeralda discovered them, once.

She called up to Harry, screeching "Commander!" at the top of her lungs.

Harry responded to her pleas to come down with, at first, a feigned deafness, but soon he returned that he had to take up sentry duty and that she was welcome to join them. She asked why he could not replace one of the men on the deck where he replied, "And work harder than I must? Surely you do not want to find dirt beneath my fingernails, or rope burns on my palms." She had huffed but agreed. She stormed away, the laughter of the crew following her as she slammed her cabin door.

"Lets grab the little princess and a bite to eat, yea?" Harry asked Astyr.

"Sure."

Astyr shivered at the sound of Harry's voice next to his ear. He eagerly anticipated dinner where he could introduce his sister and continue their conversation. He was beginning to feel _something_ for this young man. He knew somehow, that dinner would reveal some answers he desperately wanted.

* * *

A/N Before, this chapter was like the classic fight scene in Disney movies. Everything fell into place perfectly and hilariously. It threw me back to 'The adventures of Sinbad' and 'Treasure Planet' to name a few. I had Harry sliding down the monster's back and getting flung into the air to land perfectly on the deck of the ship next to the harpoon. The whole thing was hideously cliché and not something I'm proud of. Unfortunately, I didn't quite manage to remove all of the Disney aspects. Forgive me.

Tell me what you think.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

* * *

The spread before him was not fit for his social status. On land, not even a commoner would settle for such fare. The bread was hard, the cheese was moldy, the wine was moderate, and the meat was chewy. To the youngest Prince of Fray, it was unacceptable. To Astyr, it was a feast worthy of a king. Good company could remedy the worst of situations, he supposed.

They laughed and talked well into the night, getting more and more tipsy, finishing the food well after the little Princess had fallen asleep. Astyr had warned her that here, she was the only one with royal blood. She was smart and he knew she wouldn't betray his secret. Sometime around midnight, Harry posed a question, which caught Astyr thoroughly off-guard.

"My dear Spark, love o' my life, light of the night. Tell me, wherever the hell you come from, what are you? King? Prince? Noble? Cousin? How long you been a guard? Or is it soldier?"

Harry had had too much to drink. He recognized this when he realized his sober self would hate him later. He carefully set his glass down and vowed not to touch it.

Astyr knew Harry was joking when he mentioned all of the blue-blood titles. He could hear the amusement in his voice and understood Harry was expecting the details of his duty as a guard or soldier. He couldn't resist a tremble at the "love of my life" part but dismissed it immediately.

"Well what do you want me to be, Shag? Shaggy dog dog? I'm good at being a lap dog or maybe a cushion dog. Well certainly not a sheep dog. Do I look like a dog?"

Maybe he had had too much to drink as well.

Harry just grinned foolishly and looked over to his glass, which was now magically empty. What happened to that vow? He just shook his head confusedly and turned his head towards the other man.

"But what did you do?"

He looked fondly to his companion, realizing he had fallen asleep. He carefully lifted the young man up and placed him tenderly on his own bed. He decided he had better not try navigating the stairs and called for the night watch to assist him with the young princess.

Grabbing one of the pillows off the bed, and looking one last time over at what he thought was his-his something, Harry settled himself on the ground, truly content for the first time in a very long time.

Harry was up by 9 with a pounding headache. He carefully cracked open the door and quickly shut it as the light came streaming in. He could hear Oshald's guffaws from behind the wood. Slowly and ponderously, Harry eased himself into the daylight.

"I think the last time I slept this late, I was in third year and a dementor had tried to suck me off the night before." Harry grumbled sourly.

If anything, this only made Oshald laugh harder. Harry realized that none of his guests were up yet and took great pleasure in sending a jet of ice-cold water over at his overly amused first mate. Ignoring the man's sputtering, Harry found a bucket. He filled it with that same conjured water and unceremoniously dunked his head in it, utilizing his elemental powers to breathe. After about 5 minutes or so, Harry gave up and lifted his head out of the water.

The hilarity of the crew was infectious and Harry soon cracked a smile, although it was a somewhat painful one. The one person Harry never wanted to see in the morning, much less with a hangover, who certainly had never been up this early before anyway decided to grace him with her presence.

"Commander Facis! How good it is to see you on this lovely day." Her screech was almost more than Harry could bear. He looked over to her, tightlipped and teeth clenched.

"Princess."

She was wearing the most outrageous getup Harry had ever witnessed on a ship. It probably had petticoats. It was some sort of 'attractive' evening dress. Harry didn't doubt that it took her at least an hour to prepare.

"Won't you spend some time with me? That is why I agreed to accompany you on this trivial mission."

Harry snorted. She and her mother had practically forced themselves on him and his ship, almost to the point of rape. Harry wished she had stayed as far from him as possible. She really was a royal pain in the ass. He sighed. He supposed he was due for torture anyway, not having been captured for anyone's dungeon in a while. He remembered Lucious Malfoy's torture chamber and wondered if the experiences would be at all similar.

"Certainly. I realize that my duties have kept me away from you but now that my men have things under control, I can probably afford a moment of my time."

From her sweetly sadistic smile, Harry knew he had gotten himself in trouble. A moment turned into hours as she talked his ear off. He really tried to talk about something interesting but found her idea of interesting didn't really match up with his. Harry wanted to know about politics, magic, new ideas, and diverse peoples. Esmeralda wanted to know about Harry's titles, Harry's powers, Harry's exploits, and most importantly, how pretty Harry thought she looked today. Barring Harry, her main subject of interest was herself.

* * *

Astyr found himself in the captain's rooms around noon. He had awoken to an empty and spacious study with a bed to one wall in which he had slept. The pillow on the floor was evidence enough of where Harry had spent the night. Astyr blushed crimson. He remembered clearly what had been said the night before. His heart sank at the memory of Harry's teasing words. And even more when he realized that wine had clouded Harry's judgment. He probably regretted ever getting so informal around someone so lowly as Astyr. He had never wanted to impress someone with his titles before now. He knew he could not compromise Isabel's safety but wished desperately to be able to wear his most impressive formal clothes, speak in his highly cultured accent, and gaze in the powerful way he had picked up from his father. He wanted to strut and stand out and make Harry notice him.

He carefully left the captain's quarters. The crew didn't seem to notice. Their attention seemed to be mostly focused on either the task at hand (mostly repairing nets) or the couple standing close together at the bow. Astyr grimaced at the sight. There was his Harry, smiling into the face of the witch of the west.

Harry, it seemed, was animatedly talking to the girl who didn't seem nearly as engrossed as he was. She seemed keener on watching Harry's body move and sway.

Eyes off, he's mine! Astyr was a little surprised at the possessive thought. But then, why shouldn't he label the captain as his own? They were his own thoughts after all and he doubted he would ever be able to possess Harry in any other way. In your dreams, he thought bitterly.

"Well look who decided to get up!" Gary looked over at the despondent lad.

"Heya."

"Well don't just stand there moping! Get over here and start mopping! We have tons of work to do!"

Astyr immediately got to work. It would take his mind off of the practically married couple.

Harry was getting frustrated. He had tried to steer Esmeralda clear of self-centered topics. He had tried to animatedly rant about economics. He had even tried cajoling her into talking about horses with his patent grin. So far, he had gotten very little for his efforts. The girl was infuriating. She insisted on treating everyone like dirt except for him. He wished she would disdain him and leave him be. Glancing around pathetically for an excuse to escape, he caught sight of his late night drinking partner. A plan began to hatch in his mind. It might even give him an excuse to get a little closer to his favorite little spark. Harry waited for an opening.

"…And she said I was more of a leopard print kind of person than anything else. Oh don't you think it would be a wonderful theme for our wedding, Facis darling? I can call you Facis, right?"

Harry cringed. Gross. But as an opening, he would take it. "Actually, Esmeralda, There is something I have been meaning to tell you. You see…there will be no wedding. I have found that women do not suit me. I am far more attracted to the other side of things."

Here he winked cheekily.

"I don't understand." She said uncertainly.

"Well dear, it's been great chatting with you but I cater to a different sort of crowd. I like men. And not just men: common, dirty, rough types of men."

Here he licked his lips slightly. Oh this was fun.

"W—What?"

"I'm afraid it's true. I'm surprised you have never heard," He really was surprised, "But I have been gay since birth. I couldn't possibly marry you." He sighed regretfully.

"I do not believe it."

Phase 2.

"Ah but you must. I spent the night with our dear Astyr. He was really the best I've ever had. I think I am growing to love him."

It was not hard to feign love sick eyes directed at the boy scrubbing the deck. Esmeralda simply sputtered.

"Come, I will show you." With that, Harry happily walked toward the stern, Esmeralda following in his wake.

Harry came right over to Astyr and, in a forced sultry tone, said, "Hey, lover."

Astyr froze. Had he dozed off? Was this some magnificent daydream in which Harry would make passionate love to him? He looked over at the commander. Harry winked conspiratorially to him. Play along, he seemed to say.

"I am so sorry, Esmeralda, but it's true. I have gone and fallen in love with him."

Here, he came up to Astyr and flung an arm around him, hugging his head to him and kissing his temple. Then he stared defiantly over at the princess. Astyr went still with shock.

"Come now, my love. She knows. There's no need to pretend any longer." There was an urgent quality to his voice, which Astyr immediately picked up on.

Ok.

"Oh Commander."

He said it fondly, knowing this was what the princess called Harry. He had picked up the night before that she didn't actually know Harry's name. Astyr had felt privileged with this knowledge. Now he sighed and leaned into Harry, preventing himself from leaning more than was needed for the act.

"Ooohhgg!" The princess cried out and ran for her cabin.

After her door closed Harry let out a triumphant whoop. He began jumping and danced Astyr around the deck, the crews' laughter providing the music for this triumphant waltz. Astyr laughed as well.

"No more! No more 'Commander!' No more whining, No more evilly fluttering eyelashes!" Harry was ecstatic.

Astyr was trembling slightly from the kiss, unable to think of anything beyond the warmth and softness he had felt so tenderly pressed to his temple. He allowed Harry to swing him about, happily sharing in Harry's triumph.

The day was spent tranquilly with both men scrubbing the deck, contributing in the jokes from the soldiers and telling old stories. Everyone seemed to be from somewhere different and all of them had an old wives tale to tell. Harry had to modify his a little to be more adjacent to this world's advancement but he suspected that Vera, The sole female soldier he had on board, would have a harder time of it than he, coming from a very futuristic civilization. All of the men steered clear of Lord Facis tales.

Lunch and dinner was delivered to Esmeralda's cabin after her high-pitched scream demanded food. Nothing more of the princess was seen or heard and the crew thanked Harry repeatedly for this day's respite. Sunset saw little Isabel getting sleepy, having spent her day in the crow's nest with the sentries. She came over to Astyr who was speaking amicably with Harry and a soldier named Cole.

"Ast-er."

"Yes, Bel?"

"Will you tell me a story?" She demanded sleepily.

"You bet."

The girl settled down in Astyr's lap and he smiled fondly down at her.

"Once upon a time, in a distant land that nobody here has ever seen, a little boy went to school. His real name has been lost to us but the world calls him Facis."

Harry tensed. Cole had the presence of mind to leave.

"He was only 12, just a few years older than you."

Isabel hummed in agreement.

"He was loved by all and everyone idolized him. One day, he stumbled upon a dead cat. It was the headmaster's dearest cat. Beside the cat was a message, written in blood on the wall. 'Ye who so reads this, beware! The chamber has opened!' Facis turned to run but found his way blocked by his classmates. 'You!' they accused. 'You have done this!' Facis protested but they would not hear otherwise. Unable to prove it, they shunned him. He became untouchable and hated. Facis was determined to find the killer."

And so Astyr told the tale of how Facis had stumbled upon each body of dead students in the hallways of the school in search of the horrible killer. He described how, on all hollows eve, he had heard the voice from the walls. How he had followed the voice and discovered his very best friend killed by the horrible murderer. The student body began to retaliate against the innocent boy, hurling insults and hateful words. He traveled into a dense forest, battling all sorts of creatures, including centaurs and sentient trees, in search of someone who knew who the killer was.

Finally, one day in the same place the cat had been killed, Facis found the message 'she shall remain in the chamber forever!' and discovered that his sister was missing. Facis ran into the huge room adjacent to the bloodied words and saw a snake on the wall. He told it to open, and found that his words came out in hisses. He could talk to snakes! Facis ran through the opening and found a basilisk and the evilest sorcerer in the world, Voldemort. He battled both and won but not without paying the price of a basilisk fang stuck into his heart.

"Dying, Facis did an amazing thing! He summoned to him a phoenix. The phoenix, seeing the poor dying boy, cried for the child with such a valiant and brave heart. The tears flowed over the boy."

"Oh no! He didn't die did he Aster?? Did he?"

"I don't know…" He teased, "He might have…"

"Oh Aster!"

"He didn't die. No, the tears seeped into the boy's heart. So touched was his heart, that it healed and the venom was expelled from his veins. He carried the girl from the chamber and, covered in the blood of the 100-foot basilisk, and carrying his mighty sword, Facis explained everything to the headmaster. He was regaled as a hero. And the little girl and Facis lived happily to see the dawn."

Astyr watched his sister smile and close her eyes, giving into sleep's quiet embrace. Grinning with love, he looked up to Harry who had been listening to the story with an unreadable expression.

* * *

Harry had heard the entire thing. It was a very much cut up, edited, and improved version of his second year at Hogwarts. How the hell had that gotten out?

He was coming to sadly realize that here he was a myth. Here, his adventures were told to tuck children in at night. He wasn't real. He could never be real for Astyr. When he found out that the man he had shared nicknames and wine with was actually the legendary Facis, their companionship would suffer. At home he was a modern hero. Here, he was a distant, cold, and possibly dead hero. He was Achilles, Ulysses, Jason. The black knight. He sighed sorrowfully, not really noticing Astyr's odd look.

"Do you think he exists?"

The inquiry was quiet and Harry almost didn't catch it.

"I…"

He didn't know what to say.

"I suspect if he is alive, he is very old. I doubt he is though. More likely, he is dead and long gone. I heard that he visited this world once. The gossip in the markets spoke of Haven. I think it's foolish. He is probably too important to visit our world." He watched Harry closely.

"Don't be so quick and assuming, boy." Oshald had joined the conversation. "I myself have seen Facis. He is human, around your age, and very much alive."

"But that's impossible! He could not have accomplished so much in such a short life!"

Oshald's response covered up Harry's snort.

"Sure he could. Besides, most of what you hear is either exaggerated or takes place over longer or shorter periods of time than the legends say. For example, that story you just told? About the chamber of secrets? You said it happened over the course of an entire year? It really happened over a few months. And some of these legends overlap. You've heard of the legend of Aragog? The flying Coche? The Cornish pixies? These things all happened around the same time."

Harry was blushing quietly outside of the conversation.

"And you have met him? You have met Facis?"

"Certainly. We grew up in the same world. I knew him since he was 11. We didn't talk too much but I was around up until I left school." Oshald was being a bit daring. They had agreed to change their names in order to keep their birth names among friends. They wouldn't have told Astyr Harry's if Harry hadn't expressed interest in the boy.

Astyr stared. He knew Oshald a bit by now. He knew the man wasn't lying. He was a horrible liar and Astyr doubted he would have thrown away 20 gold coins pretending that he was bad at it. But this was unbelievable.

"Are you telling me you were around for these legends to occur?"

"Well, really only his first two years of school. I graduated and managed to miss the rest of his adventures at Hogwarts. I was around for the sorcerer's stone, the baby dragon, his first contact with elves, the forbidden forest exploits, his animagus training, the flying keys, the giant chess set, the three headed dog, the potions riddle…" Oshald continued ticking them off.

Harry got redder and redder.

Finally Astyr stopped the man from continuing. "And you say he is my age?"

"Yea."

Astyr let out a low whistle. So this idol was somewhere out there doing things no other human could possibly do and he was only 19 years old. This guy had to be a bloody genius. He knew Isabel was in love with the man in the legends. Probably, she would grow into puberty and the love would evolve into a crush. Astyr wasn't exactly sure why he himself wasn't crushing on this godly man. Then he knew. Because behind him sat a tangible man with real feelings. His touch was real and he breathed like no legend could. Astyr wanted Harry. Not some Hercules.

"Good night Commander."

"Good night Astyr…" Harry responded faintly.

Oshald came over to Harry once the boy had left.

"Do you hate me Harry?"

"No Flint, I don't hate you. But you really are a bloody manipulative Slytherin."

Oshald grinned, pleased with himself.

"Yea. But now the legend is more human. Perhaps he can accept you when he finds the truth."

"I cannot allow myself to think that. I wish that he would never find out. But that would be lying to him and I can barely do that now as it is." He sighed in frustration.

"But remembering those good old times sure is wonderful, isn't it Potter?"

"Yea. Yea it is."

"Gnight, Facis."

"Good night, Oshald."

* * *

Harry woke and stared up at the beams of his ceiling. He wasn't sure what prompted him to wakefulness but he knew it was still dark out. The silence of the ship and the stillness of the air indicated nighttime. With a whoosh of breath he got out of bed and headed out the door. He didn't bother with shirt or shoes. The night didn't stand on ceremony.

Outside, he breathed in the clear air and looked up to the moon. It was waxing and didn't strike any particular note in him. He toed the planks of the deck and shivered slightly from the cold. Looking around, Harry spotted the watchmen and waved them off. Nothing wrong, just a late night stroll to clear the head.

Harry slowly walked the length of the deck. There wasn't much to see or do within 100 feet. He walked anyway. As he passed the main mast, he paused as he caught sight of a bit of fabric. He pursued it, circling the mast and coming upon the most adorable sleeping guard of his dreams. It appeared as though the young man had been reading a book when he drifted off. Sighing, Harry wondered what fate wanted from him.

Nervously, Harry swept a hand at his fringe, first pushing it back and then flattening it down as he remembered his scar. How Astyr had missed it, Harry didn't know. Maybe his scar wasn't known here. It seemed that a lot of his history was warped in this world.

Wishing he had put on a shirt but not quite pathetic enough to go get one, Harry crouched and nudged Astyr awake.

* * *

Astyr blinked blurrily and then focused on Harry's torso. It was dark but the edges of his muscles were highlighted in the moonlight. A dark patch on one shoulder looked like a tattoo but Astyr didn't have enough time or light to see what it was.

"Am I dreaming?"

"I dunno Sparkle. Am I always half-naked in your dreams?"

"I—" Astyr stopped. Usually it was a full body thing.

"Common, you fell asleep."

Harry's voice was quiet and unhurried. It had a rusty quality that most men have after waking. Astyr enjoyed the sound and the site before him.

Waking more fully, he asked "Why are you half-naked anyway? And what time is it?"

"I didn't bother with a shirt, didn't think I would run into anyone. As for the time, I have no idea."

"mmm…" Astyr couldn't think of a better response at that moment.

"What are you reading?"

"Oh. It's a book on Fray. It is a general guide. I think Vera was reading it as a study in case she needed to know something."

"You must know everything in that book."

"Yes. But it's nice to read about it. To remember it as it was."

"Was?"

"Fray has fallen."

"The city has. But the country survives. The people are alive."

Astyr shook his head even as he spoke.

"My country is a small one, Harry. It will not take long for the dark army to overrun. Prince Fenton will have to retake it from his enemies. I do not anticipate witnessing that battle. They didn't invade for a bit of land, you know. They came to take the magic."

"What? Take the magic?"

"The inherent magic of Fray. The creatures, the land, the very stones of each wall; all of it is infused with an inherent magic. Creatures thrive there. We have the largest population of wizards and witches of any other three nations combined. Granted, most leave to practice elsewhere, but the country of their birth gives them life. Fray is more than a symbol of light. It is everything the dark greeds for but cannot have. It is purity and natural beauty. Fray will die very soon in the arms of the dark."

"I keep forgetting. Everyone in Fray is educated. You sound like a king, the way you speak of your home."

Astyr could say nothing to this.

"I'm sorry. For whatever it's worth, I'm sorry you lost it. I'm sorry you lost your home."

Astyr shuddered. He shook from withheld sobs. His home. His world. Gone. Shaking, he turned away from Harry who extended a hand as though to touch him.

"Good night, Harry." Astyr spoke softly, giving the man the opportunity to walk away.

Harry had never been good with dealing with people when they were upset. He never knew what to do. Now however, Harry knew exactly what he was going to do. As Astyr said goodnight, Harry knelt beside him. He reached his arms around the man and pulled him close. He laid his head upon his shoulder and didn't move. He rubbed his arms and back, staying there, steady as a rock.

Initially Astyr froze, unable to think beyond the arms encircling him. He was so unprepared for it that he didn't know what to do or where to go from there. But then the world caught up to him and he felt the pain of his loss and of his father's death. He felt the pain and the very knowledge that Harry was there to hold him sent him over the edge.

Astyr cried as he had never before. A hole that he hadn't wanted to notice ached horribly in the darkness of the night.

* * *

A/N So I don't know if you read this before I changed it but this last part was never there. I felt like I needed something to bond them and, since I've been a bit homesick recently, I thought Astyr wasn't being as distraught as he should be regarding his entire life turning upside down. I cant really imagine how I would feel if my parents died or my hometown blew up. Suicide would be my first thought.

Tell me what you think.

Just a warning, this chapter is longer than any other I've written or am planning to write.


	5. Chapter 5

Just a warning, this chapter is longer than any other I've written or am planning to write

Chapter 5

* * *

Astyr woke groggily in his own bunk. He wondered how he'd gotten there as he only remembered his sob session and nothing else. He tried to muster the energy to be embarrassed by the situation, but oddly he couldn't quite manage it. He wished he hadn't chosen that particular well-muscled and very naked shoulder to use as a tissue and at the same time, he was happy Harry had been there. He felt a little lost in this new world and new dynamic with only his sister to ground him. Having such a stable person beside him helped him tremendously. He could only feel sad as he remembered his home. Deep down, he knew he was old enough to handle it. It hurt, but he would survive. He wondered how Isabel would fare, orphaned and homeless at such a young age.

He glanced around the room and was pleased to see that he wasn't the last one up like the day before. It looked as though the sky was only just beginning to lighten and most of the men were getting up now. Some cheerfully greeted him in soft voices but most headed for water barrels to splash themselves awake.

Checking on Isabel and finding her asleep, Astyr walked along the rows of bunks to get to the hatch and up on deck. As he passed, Gary snagged his sleeve, drawing his attention.

"I thought you might be interested. You asked about them the first night." He said, holding out a picture.

Astyr studied the people in the painting. This type of painting was rare but he had seen many of them. In it, the people moved and behaved in imitation of the actual individuals. The magical theory behind it was simple but, with so few wizards around, it was impractical for everyone to have. This particular picture depicted a plump blonde woman smiling happily out at the world, completely oblivious to the antics of the two younger men standing behind her. They swatted at each other, laughing silently and pretended to stand respectfully before attacking one another again. Astyr recognized Gary as one of these. Farther to the right, an older man stood, smiling fondly to the other three. His hand rested lightly on the shoulder of a young woman who occasionally glanced at the two boys in disapproval. The two women sat in front of the three men and it was obviously a family portrait. All of them were dressed strangely in what looked like baggy dresses or structured togas.

Gary pointed out each person, naming them as he went. "There is my mother and then myself, of course."

Astyr nodded.

"That is my older brother, Dan. He and I bicker constantly but when we get together on something, look out world! There is my father and then my older sister, Anne; the one that I pranked horribly when we were 12. They are really great people."

"It's wonderful, Gary. You look so happy together."

"I haven't seen them in a while. I don't mind too much though. I could go home at anytime but I'm not inclined to. Just knowing that they're there is enough for me."

"Yes." Astyr whispered. "I can see that."

Gary glanced up and then did a double take.

"Astyr? Are you alright? Oh no, did you…? Did you lose someone in the siege? I can't believe we haven't noticed before now. I'm so stupid, I didn't mean to rub it in your face!"

Gary looked regretful and anxiously tried to comfort the boy. He clapped a hand to his shoulder, rubbing it slightly. The conversation drew others to him and they all looked worriedly into his face, trying to help. Astyr smiled at their concern.

"Yes. My father was killed fighting for the outer walls. It's ok though. I mean, it's not ok but I'm fine. I took it out on the enemy."

Around him, Harry's men nodded in sympathy. They could understand the emotions that drove a man to fight. They were fighting men themselves.

"Come on. Let's take care of our duties first. Then we can have a tournament." Gary said, winking at his bunkmates.

"Tournament?" Astyr asked uncertainly as the others loudly agreed and dispersed.

"Sure. Whenever we are waiting for something, whether to be deployed on a mission or arrive at a destination, we have a little competition."

"What kind of competition?"

"Well it varies. Last time it was arm wrestling. Not surprisingly, Cole won." Cole was huge.

"What will this one be?" Astyr asked, wondering if he could qualify.

"I suppose we could do something classic like a gentlemen's duel. Or maybe a wizard's one." Gary began rummaging in his things to ready himself for the day.

Astyr looked up at his response, curious. Watching as the man pulled out his things, he asked, "Can all of you perform magic?"

Uneasily, Gary glanced up before returning to his task.

"To some extent. Those who can't participate in a tournament take a step back and watch from the sidelines. For instance Vera has never touched a sword in her life. Oshald is a poor swordsman. Harry is little better, though he doesn't usually participate in our games anyway."

"Why not?"

"Eh. He would beat us at most things. I have to say, I could get him with a sword but anything else is out of the question."

"He's that good, huh?"

"Or maybe we just aren't up to par." Gary replied, smiling at the prince.

Astyr dropped it as he and Gary went topside.

* * *

As Gary came out into the salt air, he looked around trying to spot Harry. Finding him chatting with Frank, the shortest of their group, he approached him and saluted when he was near enough. Astyr made his way to the bow to help with the morning chores.

Aware of Gary's professional greeting, Harry responded respectfully in a low and composed voice.

"At ease. What's the problem, colonel?"

"Sir, permission to hold a skills tournament."

Harry frowned up at Gary. "Are you kidding? Go play. Enjoy it."

"Well Commander, I ask only because an outsider will be joining in, specifically the guard Astyr."

Harry blinked. Then he blinked again. Finally he scowled.

"You've been talking to Oshald, the little prick. Yes, before you ask, I do want to watch, and not a word out of you."

Gary grinned and walked away from the duo as Frank began teasing their commander. The afternoon should prove interesting.

* * *

After Harry escaped from Frank, he went in search of Oshald. He noticed his Sparkle was working on the sails, his shirt whipping about in the wind. Unconsciously, Harry slowed in his path to watch the young man work. He saw the lines jerk at his hands, trying to fly freely. The man's calves countered the strong lines, powerfully bracing him as he held on. He was nodding to another man, who ran forward to help with the rogue canvas. One of the sheet lines was lashing over the side of the vessel, unattended for the moment. A gust of wind caused it to leap and turn, slashing across the bow. Astyr's face turned aside as the rope whipped him across the cheek. He held firm and his companions hurried to secure the line. Harry stepped forward, his brows drawn in concern.

"He's fine, you know." A voice spoke from behind him.

Harry turned and found himself directly in front of the man he had been searching for.

"It wont even leave a scratch on his pretty little head." Oshald continued, smiling at Harry.

"I know. I was looking for you."

"Looks like you got distracted. What's up?"

"Well, for one, stop teasing me. It's bloody annoying."

"Will do." Oshald's grin said otherwise.

"And second, is there something for me to do? I wasn't around for your usual job allotment."

"Sure. The wheel is always free."

Harry's shoulders fell and he adopted a suffering look.

"Not the wheel!"

It was the worst job. No one liked steering at all. The first fifteen minutes could be empowering but afterwards, it was a study of boredom. There is really nothing to guiding a ship going long distances. The steersman had to monitor the change in the winds in order to go as fast as possible. The sails would be adjusted to his needs but once they were perfect, they would cruise without very much change or excitement. Once at the wheel, he wouldn't be going anywhere. It needed constant attention and constant care. With little to no physical strain, the job was torturously dull.

"You should have been around for allotment." Oshald said unsympathetically.

Harry didn't reply as he trotted to the rear of the ship. There, he took over for the fill-in and focused on the sails. If only the wind would pick up, my job would be more fun, Harry thought. He peered over the wooden handles to direct his crew on the lines. More wind would make his day.

* * *

When there was nothing left to do, Astyr wandered along the ship, looking out over the water. He couldn't see any land, though he wasn't worried about it. For as long as he could remember, Astyr would take trips to foreign lands. He was allowed into the United Empires Council when he was very young because he impressed the members with his ideas. Every year since, he visited the 13 nations as they each hosted an annual conference. Small factions of the council would make decisions during the rest of the year for the wellbeing of everyone but the conference was the most important event because that was where the nations would propose new ideas, remake their alliances, and re-allot their involvement in previous commitments.

Before and since his inclusion in the council, his father wished to teach him and his brother about the rest of the world. He took them on every single one of his voyages and told stories of distant mountains, deserts, and forests. When Isabel was born, their father determined that she would not be allowed to travel until she was older. When asked, the king would reply that while he was bringing his boys on expeditions and exposing them to exotic places, he had inadvertently created two wandering souls. He often joked that Astyr would not stay in Fray for long, so great was his love of travel and all things foreign.

Looking at the flawless horizon, Astyr could not help but wonder if his father had ever considered that his son would not be able to return. Leaving these problems at the rail, Astyr walked to the wheel where he'd noticed Harry was steering. The man's hair was flying all over the place and his smile was infectious.

Astyr stood next to him, exchanging a welcoming nod with the commander. After some moments of standing quietly, Astyr spoke.

"Thank you for last night."

"Not a problem." Harry said, looking to him before turning back to the sails. Still looking at the sails, he said, "I don't know what I would do in your position, Astyr. I don't know that kind of pain."

Unable to reply adequately, Astyr changed the subject.

"So why haven't I ever heard of you and your men? I was sure I knew about every fighting force around. Especially those that the council would employ."

Harry darted his gaze to and from Astyr's face quicker than he could notice before replying.

"We were in Haven when the distress signal was picked up." His tone was too casual, though his words were true enough. "The king at Haven and a few of the council members were there when the news was announced. We volunteered to help."

"Why were you in Haven? Was something wrong?" Concern colored Astyr's voice and his expression was distinctly worried.

"No. No, nothing like that." Harry reassured. "We'd just come from a battle…elsewhere. We were just visiting." Desperate to get Astyr off this line of thinking Harry asked, "Why, do you know someone in Haven?"

"What? No. I mean…Yes. I have a close friend in Haven."

"Oh?" Harry tried not to sound jealous. Irrationally, he wished that Astyr didn't know anyone but himself. He knew it was a horrible thought and he hated himself for it.

"Yes." Astyr continued. "He and I practically grew up in each other's h--homes."

Also intent on avoiding his lies, Astyr asked, "What are you staring at?"

Harry turned and flashed him half a smile. "The telltales."

"What?" A look of confusion spread over his face, making him look adorable.

"The telltales. C'mere and I'll show you."

Astyr stepped up behind the wheel where Harry made room for him. His heart started beating a little faster from the proximity.

"Now," Harry said, one hand on the wheel and the other extending up to point to the top of one of the sails. "You see there? That little bit of colored string?"

"…Yes." Astyr craned his neck and squinted upwards, trying not to notice the warmth from Harry's arm next to his ear. "There are two."

"Exactly. And if you look closely, you can see the shadow of two more on the other side of the cloth, right?"

"Yes! I can see them."

"Those are telltales. When the wind fills the sail, they will be perfectly straight but if I do this…" Harry turned the wheel slightly. "See? The ones on the inside start moving all around because they aren't getting hit with all the wind they could be. Also, If I do this," He turned the wheel the other way. "And I go too far, the ones on the outside start going wild. To keep the sails full, you want all of the telltales to be straight."

"Can I try?" Astyr asked, feeling excited about the whole thing.

He had never gotten to do anything on the voyages he took with his father. There, he was a prince. Here, he could sail as much as he wanted.

"Sure."

Harry handed the wheel off to Astyr.

His eyes widened as he felt the power of the ship. The wheel strained heavily to the right, causing Astyr to nearly wrestle it into place.

"That's amazing. What causes it to do that?"

"Well first, to steady yourself out, pick a spot on the horizon. Keep the end of the ship pointed toward your spot at all times. Good. Now, as for the pressure…."

Harry's eyes crinkled happily as he began explaining how the sails caught the wind and how their position varied depending on the wind direction. Maybe this wasn't the worst job after all.

* * *

"Nervous?" Gary asked sympathetically.

"Not really. I'm just not sure how skilled you expect me to be."

"Well don't worry about it. We've been trained extensively for this kind of thing. It's ok if you haven't."

"Well I have."

"Oh yea, you were the king's guard, right? Well, good luck." Gary said this last quickly as a referee began calling out names in the order in which they would fight.

Only twenty-four of the fifty men on board elected to participate. All of them, from the looks of it, were master swordsmen. They warmed up all over the available surface on deck. Those who weren't participating were manning the ship or hiding belowdecks so as not to get slashed by a practice swing. Harry had retreated from Esmeralda's post-lunch nattering by climbing up to the first spar and he sat there, swinging his legs with anticipation. Esmeralda herself had set up a chair next to the mast fully equipped with an umbrella for the shade and tastefully placed cushions. Every once in a while, she called up, asking the commander to join her, which he graciously declined.

Astyr didn't bother to warm up with his barrowed sword. He knew well enough that it was the muscles he needed to prepare, not his weapon. As he stretched his body out (with an appreciating audience perched in the mast), Astyr looked discretely to his fellows to gauge their experience level. They were good, he admitted. Very good.

"First off, Darren against Frank. Ready on my mark."

The two specified men entered a pre-drawn square just aft of the mast. Circles were used traditionally but any soldier worth his salt preferred a box to spar in. The men who were participating in the competition lined the outside edges of the box. Those that weren't took stations around them and up in the rigging. A large gap was left between the watchers and Esmeralda. No one really wanted to be near her. Astyr stood across the box from her, as close to the action as was safe.

"Begin."

The two fighting men saluted each other before falling into defensive stances. Astyr analyzed each of their styles as they moved. Darren was electric in his pose. He sent all of his energy into each limb and Astyr's respect for his skill increased. It is a mistake to hold energy back from any move you make. It is also tiring to hold that much energy for very long.

Frank held his body low to the ground. Everything about him oozed creep and slink. Astyr would bet a gold token that his favored attack was a quick and vicious jab to the bowels. Frank made the mistake of attacking too early, he assessed, as the man charged in under Darren's guard. Darren retreated slightly before attacking from above, aiming to take him out like a hawk.

Frank was too quick and he found himself slicing empty air. The problem with putting that much energy into his attacks was once he committed to a move, there was no going back. As Frank darted to the side to avoid the swing, he scored a hit to Darren's flank. The two separated and circled warily, the referee calling first blood.

This first initial clash took no time at all and it quickly became the theme of their duel. The two men would each in turn grow tired of circling and would attack in a fast burst. They would come together and spring apart. They were very good swordsmen.

Finally, despite his initial victory, Frank lost to the strength of Darren's swing. He'd been caught on the shoulder and lost his grip on his sword. As the referee called out Darren's victory, those skilled in medical magic came to help Frank out.

"Next is Sebastian and Cole. On my mark…Begin."

And so it went. Astyr watched each fight, noting the way each man fought and replaying each confrontation, asking himself what he would do differently. His sword master had been impressed and slightly afraid of Astyr's skills. When he asked how Astyr improved so much, Astyr explained his process of analysis when watching a fight. The sword master was skeptical until he tried it himself. His own skill improved dramatically. The only person in Fray that Astyr couldn't beat was his brother Fenton. They had fought many times, Astyr only bringing it to a draw once.

"Next, Gary and John."

Astyr looked on with renewed interest. If his sources were true, Gary was the man to beat. The two duelists took up their swords and shook opposite hands. John was looking a little nervous as he fell back into a gentleman's defense. He was long and wiry and looked impressive, as he stood straight up, waiting for an attack. Gary knew the stance and immediately closed in.

He aimed first for the legs, bending down and cutting low. His lunge powerfully fueling the attack. John was lucky as he instinctually sprang away. He lowered his point to defend but immediately had to pull it up again as Gary shifted his weight and tried again. His front leg ate up space and John soon found himself out of room. In a desperate move, the man countered, pulling his sword over Gary's and trying to pop it out his hands. Gary re-countered and, in a surprising move, pulled away. Even as he did, his foot turned to pivot. Astyr watched excitedly as he recognized the move. Gary turned his hips and, as he did so, he whipped his sword back into his opponent's thigh, drawing first blood.

Throughout all of the previous duels, the men standing around cheered their comrades on, made bets, and crowed at their favorites. Now, money was being exchanged as Gary took the lead. Astyr refrained from betting, intent on watching. It was hard to pin down Gary's style. It was distinctive but, like a snake, twisted in unexpected ways. Any one of these men could send his old sword master running, Astyr thought as Gary changed positions. He centered himself solidly as John began to stalk in towards his opponent. Gary turned slightly to keep up with him but mostly relied on his head to keep in line with John. In this type of combative dance, the attacker had to be lightening quick and catch the defender as he shifted position. In contrast, the defender wanted to move as little as possible so as not to give his strength away.

Astyr grinned as Gary waited a bit too long in turning. It was well orchestrated on Gary's part. It caused Gary to make a larger turn, losing his solid stance for a moment. John fell for the bait and charged in, trying an uppercut swing. Gary stepped to the side and cut down onto John's back, resting his blade on the back of his neck.

"I yield." John said, the crowd roaring happily.

As John lowered his sword, his friends came and slapped him on the back. He held himself well and his failure was not shameful. Gary, Astyr noticed, never made a single mistake.

"Next, Astyr and Charles."

The tone of the crowd changed as they goaded their new friend forward. Astyr grinned at them and thought, my turn.

* * *

Oshald joined Harry in his perch, holding onto the shroud for balance.

"Who'd you bet on?" He asked absently, watching as the young guard walked to one side of the box.

"Astyr."

"I would think you'd have a little faith in your own men, Commander."

"Ah, but you forget, my dear Oshald, that I have seen him fight. He is magnificent. I think he will take Gary."

"You're joking. Gary won all the challenges we ever gave him! He was the Rapier Wizarding World Champion every year he competed!"

"Astyr's going to win. I put 30 galleons on it." Harry said, not looking to his incredulous lieutenant.

"You're insane." Oshald muttered over the sound of the referee saying, "Begin."

* * *

Harry stared intently onto the fight below. He seemed to be intrigued by all things "Sparkle" which, while an adequate nickname, gave him the feeling that he must be an entranced crow. Briefly, he touched upon the idea of Astyr being in his nest before refocusing on current events.

He watched as Astyr stood calmly in a fairly standard defensive position. Charles was actually one of the better swordsmen and his semi-defensive position was fairly advanced. He stepped forward quickly, stabbing his blade across his body, bracing it with his arm. Astyr didn't move as the blade extended towards him.

* * *

Astyr watched as the first attack, aimed for his heart, swept forward in a practiced jab. He didn't back away or swat it aside for two reasons; one, he didn't want to give up ground that might be hard to win back, and two, he didn't want to leave himself unprotected for the follow-up besides which, swatting it away would be harder with the arm brace. Instead, Astyr lifted his left arm and threw back his left shoulder. As he did, his right arm and sword made a graceful sweep in front of him, looking almost accidental as though his leaning back caused him to be overbalanced. As fast as it was, no one saw the blade flick into the flesh of Charles' sword arm.

As his attack met nothing but air, Charles drew away and began to circle. At first, he didn't think anything was wrong but then he began to feel the wetness on his sleeve. At the same time, men all around started calling out first blood, seeing the red-stained cloth. Some were asking where it came from, others laughed delightedly. Charles was stumped, not remembering how he received it. He decided to play cautiously in case the kid tried another slick move.

Deciding to mix it up a bit, Astyr took a defensive position again, though this one was entirely different in nature. He practically taunted Charles to come closer with the subtle change in his body. The stance gave Charles a false sense of security in thinking he wasn't entirely ready for immediate attack. Like a good fighter, Charles didn't wait for Astyr to sort himself out and he charged in for close quarters. Quick as lightening, Astyr slipped Charles' guard, almost touching him as he slid his body around Charles'. Charles made to turn but froze as Astyr, who had ended up behind him, pressed his sword lightly into his side.

"I yield." Charles said, surprise evident in his voice.

Harry's men weren't much better as they cheered and exclaimed their shock. Money started swapping hands all around. Gary watched Astyr with calculating eyes, as the guard walked out of the box.

"Alright men. Twelve are left. Let's try and get it down to 6, shall we?" the referee shouted out over everyone's heads. "First up, Gary and Chris!"

Predictably, the 6 men left by the end of it were Gary, Cole, Astyr, Samson, James, and Darren. Each of those that lasted were Astyr's predicted winners. He had an eye for talent and few of the others reached this level of professionalism. Charles had been good but he had underestimated the guard and paid dearly for it. Astyr's second duel was very short. He took out his opponent on the first exchange. Now he anticipated some challenge.

"Ok. Now let's see James and Gary. Ready? Begin."

Astyr took this opportunity to watch Gary's feet. He was curious how the man moved in his more unconscious endeavors. It is easy to change styles but often the feet are left behind. Astyr wanted to put Gary in a box regarding all of his movements and strategies. He raised his brows thoughtfully as Gary's feet didn't seem to move at all. They shuffled quickly, refusing to leave the ground or move about in anyway. It was his grounding, his base. James' style was what Astyr would call standard. He would be the perfect instructor for anyone who wished to learn. There wasn't much character in his perfect thrusts and parries but everything was well executed and difficult to breach. It provided Astyr with the perfect sounding board to catch Gary's tune.

It wasn't long before Gary had James pinned to the ground, his sword flung to the side. Astyr applauded with the rest, removing his eyes from Gary's feet.

"Astyr and Darren!"

Astyr stepped forward as Darren helped James up from the ground. To defeat Darren, he would have to stay out of his way. If he was hit with the other man's energetic blows, he would be felled. If he stayed away, Darren would defeat himself. For every missed hit, he depleted his energy.

"Begin!" The referee cried out.

Astyr didn't bother circling. He knew it was his place to attack because Darren wasn't likely to come at him rashly. He watched for openings but didn't see any worth taking. Moving his focus slightly to the right, Astyr attacked as though he wanted to cut Darren's arm at the shoulder. Darren responded correctly with a counter but Astyr wasn't in the correct attacking position. If he had been aiming for Darren's shoulder, Darren would have drawn first blood. He was not. He hadn't aimed at Darren at all. He went for open air. Darren's blade countered where Astyr's body wasn't and Astyr took the man around in a pivot. Nothing had changed. They both stood facing each other. The only difference was Darren was panting a little faster than he should.

Astyr continued to step around Darren's defensive strokes. Whenever the man tried to attack, Astyr would engage as little as possible and instead step inside the man's personal space. Their dance was close quartered and involved very little contact. Astyr stuck to Darren like glue, not wanting to distance himself and give the other man a clear shot. As Darren tired, Astyr gave him hints of openings. He was too skilled to fall for an obvious bluff but Astyr doubted he wouldn't take a real chance when given one.

As he made a final turn, Astyr readied himself in a new position. Darren swung his sword high, aiming for the neck. Astyr ducked and, instead of rolling to the other side of the man as he had done previously, he straightened and slashed upward. Darren was quick to block but was surprised as he found himself on the defensive. Thrown by this new tactic, it was all he could do to defend himself as Astyr drove him backwards. Astyr's direct attack caused the watching men to howl in delight. At some previous point, Esmeralda had vacated and didn't have to put up with their screams.

Giving a last ditch effort at the end of the box, Darren chose to make an open attack at Astyr's chest. He was stilled however as Astyr's sword tip caught him up at the neck.

"I yield." He said, his head held back away from the man.

* * *

"Impressive."

"Yes." Harry responded, not looking away from the figure on the ground, standing strongly with his sword tip at Darren's throat.

"He's like a chameleon. He changes color every few minutes. He's full of surprises."

"I think it's something he's good at."

Harry's absentminded comment drew Oshald's gaze.

"You know, you really don't know who he is. A guard, he said? I don't know any guards that good with a blade."

Harry was quiet as he watched Astyr shake hands with Darren before once again leaving the box.

"I don't know what to think, Oshald. But I don't think I care, either." He finally responded as Cole and Samson began to duel.

* * *

"We have three left, gentlemen! The giant Cole! The champion Gary! And the guard Astyr! First up, Astyr and Cole!"

These two were the men that made Astyr wary. Cole was huge and with great defenses that were hard to penetrate. His attacks didn't have too much finesse, as he tended to swat men out the water. Gary was something else altogether.

As Astyr stepped back into the dueling box, he couldn't help but feel short compared to the hunk of man that stood opposite him. He recognized the intimidation factor of the man's size but wasn't quite able to keep himself from being intimidated. Huge men are not always such a big issue when it comes to fighting. Huge men that have skill are the real problems.

The perfect opponent for Cole, Astyr mused, would be Frank. Frank was cautious and stayed low to the ground. Frank could strike lightening quick and penetrate the belly of the beast. Astyr would have to fight like Frank to beat Cole.

"Begin." Called the referee.

Astyr began circling. It fit with what he thought Frank would do. He stayed low to the ground, sword hilt even with the tops of his boots. Cole held himself strongly, using a wide fighting stance. He lifted his blade lightly before bringing it in a diagonal slice, high to low. Astyr darted to the side and in, jabbing at Cole's knees. Cole was fast enough to block, and block again as Astyr stabbed again.

He jumped away and started in from another direction, keeping the pressure on Cole high and uncomfortable. All of his attacks came from his low stance and he seemed to slip in and out of range.

Deciding to take another page from Frank's book, Astyr chose an attack he'd seen the other man use on Darren. He came charging in, going straight for Cole's blade. Cole didn't react the same way that Darren had but it didn't really matter. As Cole tried to make a strong slash across Astyr's chest, Astyr moved to the side and brought his body past Cole's, scoring first blood on his outer thigh.

Cole pivoted and tried to make a sweep at Astyr's retreating form, which he narrowly missed. Cole didn't give up the advantage, thinking Astyr was off balance. Astyr however, didn't give up ground but instead moved to the side and forward, scoring another hit on Cole's chest.

Last one, Astyr thought, dancing around the large man. Deciding to make the move he had labeled as Frank's favorite, Astyr came in toward the giant, ducking under his attack and giving a quick jab to the gut. Astyr had expected Cole to move backwards to try to get away from him. Cole was caught up and didn't have enough time to evade the blade as it sliced two inches into his gut. The only people who noticed were Astyr and Cole as the referee called Astyr the winner.

The cheering men were all shocked when, instead of pulling out of his last attack and stepping away, Astyr dropped his blade and stepped up against Cole, placing his hands on the new wound.

"Medic." He called out, not panicking but not calm either.

Cole dropped his own sword and was smart enough to ease himself down to the ground with Astyr's hands still pressed to the cut.

"Good thing you didn't twist that blade." He said to the guard as he frowned down at his own abdomen.

"I'm sorry." Astyr said, looking up to Cole's face in concern.

Cole didn't have time to reply as Vera began casting on his gut.

"You sliced the small intestine but there isn't too much damage. I'm fixing it but you are slightly septic. You'll have to sit the next one out. Gary can beat you some other time." She informed the giant man, handing a bandage to Astyr as she waved her wand at Cole's injury.

When he felt the blood pressure let up due to Vera's skills, Astyr began to quickly and methodically wrap the bandage around Cole's torso as he'd done countless times during the siege.

"He'll be fine." Vera told the watchers as she gave Cole some water.

Slowly, Cole got to his feet and walked back to his place around the box.

"You had better beat Gary, kid. You can't stab me for nothing." He said as he left, winking over his shoulder.

Astyr stayed in the box as Gary stepped forward. He glanced anxiously to Cole but didn't know how he could make the situation better. Gary's sharp gaze took in everything.

For the first time since the fighting began, Astyr looked up to where Harry was sitting. The commander looked carefree with his legs swinging slightly. He didn't look concerned for Cole at all and when he saw Astyr looking he flashed a thumbs up towards him. 'My money is on you!' he mouthed, failing to make Astyr feel better about the situation.

He turned back to Gary who was lifting his sword into position. Carefully, Astyr did the same. The sound from the men died down as they watched the fighters with interest.

"Begin."

Just after the referee called it, Gary came in hitting hard. He obviously wanted to put Astyr off balance but he was prepared for such a move. He'd seen the tactic in another fight and had resolved not to be flustered. He countered and blocked, using defensive moves instead of avoiding Gary's strokes. That was another thing he'd learned from watching Gary fight; there was no avoiding him.

Astyr fielded some of Gary's blows to the side and countered others. They were right in each other's faces, matching each other blow for blow. Recognizing that they were getting nowhere, Astyr shoved an attack away by putting extra strength into his block. Instead of attacking again as he had been, he jumped back and circled the man.

Not wanting to stand around or wait for Astyr to attack, Gary tried to engage again and keep Astyr on his toes. Astyr knew the only way to get Gary was to use his eagerness against him. As Gary came in at him aiming for his heart, Astyr countered in a peculiar way. Instead of going for the kill stroke on the midline of the body, Astyr went for the knees, elbows, hips, and sides. Every time Astyr attacked, he went for the extremities or places that caused Gary to move out of the way. Avoiding was generally considered better then blocking, especially when it came to that kind of attack.

So intent was Gary on getting through Astyr's defenses, he didn't notice as his steady base began to erode. He was soon moving his feet all around, dancing away from Astyr's swings. He was thoroughly unprepared when Astyr avoided a neck chopping slash by literally dropping to the ground and sweeping his leg beneath Gary's feet.

Knowing that the necessary time to get up and put his sword to Gary's heart would not be enough, Astyr extended his arm from his position on his back.

"Yield." He said, head turned towards Gary with his sword pressing into the man's cheek.

Gary stared across at the young guard before saying it.

"I yield."

There was silence from all sides.

* * *

"My god." Oshald said quietly.

Harry could only nod as he looked down at the two fighters flat on their backs. Gary's voice drifted to them in the quiet.

"I yield."

Astyr's sword drew away, though he didn't get up. He was panting slightly as was Gary.

Harry dropped to the deck silently and walked to the box. His men drew away as he came forward.

"I wonder," Harry said as he stopped between the two men, both squinting up at him. "What you have won?"

Gary laughed in huffs, his throat hitching from exertion.

Harry put a hand down to him and after a moment Gary grabbed a hold and pulled himself up. Harry reached down and held his hand out for Astyr as well.

Astyr clasped it tightly and levered himself up to a standing position. Their hands held a bit longer and then let go, both feeling a pleasant burning in their palms.

"Well men. We have a new rapier champion, Astyr!"

They cheered and began slapping him on the back, asking about his training and retelling parts of the match.

"Lets drink!" Gary cried out, looking over to his new friend. "Because I need a drink just now."

The men heartily agreed. They brought out barrels of wine and rum, passing cups around and laughing raucously.

Harry snagged Astyr's wrist and pulled him over to a pile of rope that was more comfortable to sit on. They settled down with groups of conversing men on either side.

"Cheers." Harry said, holding up his cup.

"Cheers." Astyr repeated, taking a drink.

"Good job, Sparkle. You are very impressive." Harry said with a serious look.

"Shouldn't you be mad that your men didn't win?" Astyr teased.

"Definitely not. I made a lot of money on you tonight."

"Ah, but why would you do that? Anyone in their right mind would bet on Gary."

"Which is why I won a lot of money. I had great odds. Everyone bet against me. As for why, I've seen you fight. You were very good."

Harry drank down half his cup.

Astyr blinked. Then he asked, "When have you ever seen me fight before today?"

"I…the night of the siege. We were spread around the city helping people. That included the palace, where I saw you defending your sister."

Astyr frowned now, truly confused. "I never saw anyone, except for that cat. Actually, I've been meaning to ask you—"

"Astyr! Good show! With that last miss, I couldn't believe it! No one has outdone Gary for as long as I've known him! And that, my friend, is a very long time! Where did you learn all of that?"

And Oshald saves the day again, Harry thought bemusedly, even if he is a little drunk. He definitely deserves my first-born child.

Astyr grinned at the lieutenant and began describing his sword master. He touched on his brother often but never mentioned who he was. They drank long into the night, laughing and enjoying themselves, commenting on a day well spent.

* * *

Ok so there are a few reasons why this chapter is important. One, I needed a filler. I don't know if you notice, but most of the beginning of this chapter is taking up story time. I needed the two lovebirds to have more than 3 days to get to know each other. Thus, I inserted an extra day (which is why this chapter is particularly long; it's one full day). Second, some reviewers pointed out to me that Harry keeps saving Astyr's butt (as you will see later on as well) and I needed a place where Astyr could shine. So far (and later too) Astyr's talents only manifest in bits and pieces. I wanted him to kick a little ass. Third, we are really beginning to see the edges of these lies unravel. It'll be a shock when it all comes out. I almost want them to have a fight over who lied the most but ill refrain from that bit of childishness.

Does anyone notice how there is suddenly a whole lot more of Gary around? I didn't plan on that…

Also, I'd like to point out that I have absolutely no experience in combat of any kind so my moves are all made up. If you don't see it in your mind's eye, chances are it doesn't exist and I'm just pulling it out of my ass. You can comment if you want. If it is too unrealistic, I'll change it. I will go and read R. A. Salvatore's homeland series again. It has the best fighting scenes I've ever read.

One last thing, I wrote this while I was grossly sick with flu. I should have been working and I only had 2 weeks to finish everything I was doing and to close up my entire operation before moving back to the states. If you appreciate the effort I put into it,

Tell me what you think.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

* * *

Astyr woke the next morning to find miserable weather outside. The sky was overcast and drizzles caused the crew to mutter nervously. Their fears proved to be well founded as a crack of lightening hailed the sudden release of the floodgates in the sky.

Cursing, Oshald trotted over to the helm. He was one of the strongest men and knew how to conduct himself in a storm. He took command of the ship, yelling out orders for things to be lashed down. The storm was not at all encouraging because today was the day they would reach Haven. As the weather steadily worsened, Oshald knew he wouldn't be able to hold his position.

"Commander!" Oshald shouted into the rain, "I need you here!"

Harry seemed to jump off the basket, falling toward the deck. I really do seem to have some sort of fascination with falling…He thought, just as he tightened the ring between his hands on the rope. He slowed just as he reached the planks, touching down lightly.

"What's up?" He asked innocently.

"Cheeky monkey." Oshald muttered. Then, "We are in for a rough ride. This storm is bound to get dangerous and I don't think I can navigate it safely."

"What? This li'l thing?" Harry grinned.

Oshald glared at his commander a little before handing him the helm. Harry smiled, caressing the wood of its handles. Through this instrument, he could feel the boat itself, the life that was The Dinghy. Merlin hadn't made just some ordinary, run of the mill ship. No, this ship was magical. It was alive. It had feelings and responded to Harry's touch warmly. Go. He thought to her, Go as fast as you can. There is a storm and we must make it to Haven.

The feeling from the ship was reassuring and the effects were immediately noticeable. Unlike before, the ship was interacting with the sailors. Certainly the ropes didn't tighten themselves nor did the boat take over the jobs of the crew. Instead, the change was subtler. The ship angled just right, allowing it to shoot forward in a way that even the most experienced captain would be lucky to accomplish. The sails filled out and seemed to catch more wind, the rudder turned the boat at the slightest touch of the wheel, and the ship held herself efficiently over the crest of each wave.

Lightening cracked overhead, illuminating the scurrying forms of Harry's men as they lashed both barrels and themselves to the ship. They hurried to stow their things away and secured everything above and below decks. Little Isabel was put in Harry's cabin for safety's sake.

Harry screamed out orders into the spray, demanding a rope be cut, another be cleated, another be tightened, and still others let down. He had been shifting the sails in such ways that harnessed the buffeting winds and rode the huge swells. Somehow, they stayed uninjured, unhurt, and unharmed.

An hour after the initial downpour, Harry was cursing his luck. There was no avoiding being delayed. He had hoped he could turn around some of the winds and direct them towards land, but short of conjuring up a counter-storm, that seemed impossible. The delay, Oshald had reasoned, would only be one of a few hours. Still, Harry didn't want to leave his arrival to fate. Sighing resignedly, he called for a period of rest as the waves began to calm. In this calm, no one did anything, feeling much too exhausted to move. Harry handed the wheel off as he went sourly over to sit by his Sparkle.

"God damn weather." He said in annoyance, glaring up at the sky.

Astyr laughed and responded, "God damn pride."

Harry smiled and looked over to him. "Well the king of the lions must have a boastfully magnificent pride." He said, grinning at his pun.

"That reminds me! I've been meaning to ask, but I have always been distracted whenever I'm around you. Where is that cat? The one that saved me the night of the siege?"

Harry stiffened. Damn.

"Harry." It was Oshald. Looks like he gets my second born child too…

"Oshald?"

"There is a…a visitor. He wants to see you."

His interest piqued, Harry gave Astyr an apologetic look, giving him a hand up and following Oshald to the forecastle. Harry stood close to Astyr, reveling in the heat the man gave off. He waited patiently, observing that Gary seemed to be conversing with something in the water off the bow. Vera was laughing at whatever it said nearby.

"Well?" Harry asked, though not unkindly.

A voice floated from over the rail making Harry's eyes widen in shock. "Oh good Commander, won't you let me up so that I might rest awhile?"

"If you don't get up here now, I'll fillet your scaly hide!" Harry exclaimed, excitement tingeing his voice.

There was a deep chuckle as Gary reached over the side to help the man up. Astyr gasped in surprise at the body that vaulted the rail. For one thing, he was completely naked. And he didn't even seem to notice or care. For another, he was green. The shade of his skin was a green pastel, his hair a royal blue. His eyes were a reflective golden, giving him a divine appearance.

Harry walked right up to him, grinning in a happy way that Astyr had never witnessed. Not noticing the man's state of undress, Harry hugged him close, pulling away only to kiss him soundly, leaving no room to doubt the nature of their relationship. His hopes dashed, his heart aching, Astyr could only look away in despair.

* * *

Harry had completely forgotten about the man behind him, who moments ago had permeated all of his thoughts. Certainly he was still thinking of his body, his grace, his intelligence and his laughter. But now his old lover had come! He knew the merman would help relieve Harry's troubles and listen to his sexual frustrations regarding his Sparkle.

Harry hugged him hard, kissing him warmly as was their custom. Merfolk never allow themselves to have physical contact. Even contact to small children is minimal. A courting couple will use a bit of brushing as contact for the first year or so before anything more serious than that is acceptable. It was one of the reasons Fate had left his home. He craved contact and this, along with other oppressive laws and customs drove him to begin his adventures with Harry on land. Harry always made sure he felt loved and felt the needed contact even if it was completely platonic at this stage.

Fate smiled his appreciation at Harry's antics. Harry's men loved his merman and often expressed it with their own hugs and affectionate slaps. Fate visited as much as possible. Gary grabbed him up, spinning him around and laughing. Vera kissed him on the cheek and little Frank snuck up behind him. He jumped onto his back, grinning and hugging him around the neck from behind.

Fate's throaty laugh sounded again, sending slight shivers through Astyr. He didn't notice Harry glance to him as he did so.

He had to admit it; he knew why Harry was attracted to the merman. Feeling left out of the fun and companionship for the first time, Astyr snuck away. He didn't anticipate watching Harry and the strange man interact.

"Fate, you old fish, what are you doing here? You could have gotten hurt in the storm!"

"Ah Harry. How could I leave you here all alone, possibly injured from that same storm? And stuck with that princess brat for who knows how long?"

"So you heard about that huh? Been in Haven long?"

"Yes. Remus was worried so I volunteered to hunt you down."

"Oh but where are my manners? Fate, this is Astyr, Astyr…" Harry turned around to find his young friend gone. "Where…?"

"Astyr? Replaced me so soon, my minnow?" They had been apart for 3 years. Harry was long overdue a new boyfriend.

Harry grimaced, causing the smile to leave Fate's face immediately. "There, my friend, is the source of all of my troubles…"

"Come. Let's get out of the cold and you can tell me about it." Harry eagerly agreed.

Astyr watched from his perch in the rigging as Harry led the merman to his quarters. He had only heard snatches of their conversation. "Replaced me so soon, my minnow?" "…My friend…. troubles."

Astyr sighed in dejection. Oh why did fate hate him so much? Just when the princess was out of the picture, this new threat reared its beautiful green head. This time, it was for real. They were probably in love. Harry didn't strike Astyr as the type of guy who would play around. When we get to land, Astyr resolved, I will leave. I will take my sister to Istea, where my brother was ported. There, I will remain. Or perhaps I will leave Isabel with Bain and apply as a deckhand on some ship. Certainly I will not hang around and impede on Harry's life. With that, he trudged to the hold. Why did that seem so callous? Why did it hurt so much?

* * *

Fate had a thoughtful look on his face. Harry had lent him a pair of pants and a shirt. The only thing he'd been wearing in the water was his necklace, which Harry had given him. He'd activated the transfiguration charm before ascending the ship's side.

"Well…" He said slowly, "I don't know what to tell you. You must trust yourself. You obviously love him. Why is he so interesting? Surely it isn't because he is untrustworthy, hateful, or misunderstanding."

"But what if I lose him even as a friend? I have lied to him. Or worse! What if he becomes a treasure hunter, just like those bratty princesses who insist on throwing themselves on me?"

"Then perhaps he is not worthy. If that is how he reacts, will he be worth living with, knowing that who you are has made such an impression? I don't know. You must decide this."

"But I don't want to screw it up."

Harry downed his wine in agitation. Fate simply smiled. His friend was in love. It was about time too.

* * *

Astyr sighed in relief as he heard the sentry's horn. The port was in sight. The land had been visible for hours. Now he was close to his release. He was close to disappearing. As he watched the houses take shape, Astyr contemplated where he might go. First and foremost, he didn't want to make an appearance at the royal palace. He would be immediately recognized and Astyr planned to slip away anonymously. He knew that a party of men and Harry would have to take Isabel straight to the king. While they were gone from the ship, it was likely that everyone else would spread into the port and get their feet on dry land. That is when he would make his move. At least, that is what he thought before he saw the commotion along the harbor. At first, it just seemed like an indistinct blur. Soon, however, he made out a huge crowd on the docks and in the streets. The people seemed to extend throughout the streets and beyond sight, halting traffic completely.

* * *

"Harry…What is that?" Astyr asked uncertainly.

Harry only responded by rolling his eyes. Fate had opted to leave after their heart to heart. He had said something about missing the rush. His fears were obviously justified.

Soon the sound of cheering met their ears. The men's faces dropped into expressionless masks, which caught Astyr completely off guard. They slowly began disappearing down to the hold, minutes later reappearing with full body armor on. Astyr could see that the armor was purely ceremonial, recognizing that it was unpractical for combat conditions.

Harry sighed.

Oshald came to him worriedly saying, "Commander…You should probably get ready."

"No. I am not an ape. I will not be dressed up to be gawked at in my gilded cage. Let them see I am human. Perhaps it will register."

Oshald gave an unconvinced grunt before ordering the men to begin pulling in the sails. Harry was terrified. He was afraid of Astyr's reaction. He knew it would connect in the intelligent man's brain. He knew someone would scream his name, terminating the game.

"Is this just for Isabel?" Astyr asked in confusion.

He received no reply.

The roar of the crowd drowned out everything as they came to the dock. A huge procession of soldiers lined the road all the way up to the safety of the large sprawling palace, which crowned the highest hill in the area. Horses of the greatest breed and highest caliber were waiting for 6 of the Dinghy's occupants. The rest would regally march on foot. From somewhere deep in the hold, a drum appeared.

Astyr looked to the crowd in awe. The only time he had ever seen such a greeting was when his father had marched the entire royal family in a ceremonial parade around the city. The people had feasted and partied the entire night. The day was remembered fondly by all of the populace as a day of free food and merrymaking.

Harry, expressionless, grabbed Astyr's arm around the wrist.

"Stay close." He yelled into his ear, barely heard above the thrall.

He began pulling the young prince towards the horses, Taking a black stallion for himself and directing Astyr toward a white one. Behind him, Oshald, Princess Esmeralda, Princess Isabel, and Gary mounted their own horses. Astyr attempted to bring his steed to the back of the procession but was intercepted by Harry. Harry wanted Astyr to be right next to him when he found out. He wanted to see his face and gauge his reaction to Harry's biggest lie. He was dreading it. He reflected that he hadn't felt this nervous about anything, not even the chamber of secrets. Give me a basilisk any day of the week, just not this anguish.

Harry snatched up Astyr's reins and led him, bringing the horse adjacent to him. He really didn't want to proceed ahead, alone to bear the jeering of the masses.

"FACIS!" They screamed. "HAIL, FACIS HAS RETURNED!"

Harry looked over to see a confused look on his Sparkle's face. Then there was a scary dawning comprehension. Soon his face had become as unreadable as his men's.

Game over.

They did not respond to the people. They were soldiers. But Harry did not go with any kind of show at all. He was still wearing his common clothing; his loose white shirt, simple trousers, and his knee high boots. He swayed slightly with the horse, showing accomplishment as a horseman but without any elaboration. He sat in his saddle easily, neither sitting up tall nor slouching. Somehow, the people loved him all the more.

Harry's relief at the vision of the outer wall gates into the palace was palpable. As they passed through, they quickened their pace on the path leading through grassy grounds. Soon, they found themselves before the double doors of the main hall. They dismounted, Astyr looking around for something he could do. Perhaps, deal with the horses? Then maybe he could slip away. He moved to take the reins from the others but found pages grabbing them ahead of him. About to follow, he found himself tugged toward the palace.

Turning and half expecting to find Harry, he was disappointed to see Gary. Of course. How had he missed it? Harry was Facis. It made sense. In a sick and sad way, it made perfect sense. How could you expect him to pay attention to you now? He was too important. He had lowered himself while bored on an isolated ship. Now Astyr was useless to the illustrious legend. To think, he had drunk the night away with a myth! He had cried on his shoulder! The men he had spent his time making raucous jokes and sparring with had been a part of the greatest elite forces among all the universes Facis had ever found. No wonder they had such strange accents.

"What, Gary? Or should I call you milord? Highness? Most elite of fighting men?"

"Don't be a prat. My name is Gary. Why would you call me anything different? Come. We must get into the castle. The king is expecting Harry."

Gary kindly ushered Astyr through the doors, trailing behind Harry's graceful figure. They quickly walked the length of a huge hall, the gothic arches of the ceiling causing their footsteps to echo oddly. There were flags running down the walls and various noble house crests were displayed. Due to his training, Astyr knew every one of them. Isabel walked hand in hand with Oshald, looking up in interest at this new hall. She was very familiar with her own palace but had never ventured to another. Astyr had no such limitations. Nervously, he looked behind him, wishing for escape. He was not foolish enough to hide his appearance. The royal family at Haven was practically his own. He would be discovered very soon.

"Astyr!"

He looked up. I guess the truth comes out on both sides today, he thought nervously. He really was happy to see his childhood friend though. He spared a glance to his companions to see their reactions as a well-dressed young man spotted him and strode forward. His crown was clearly displayed on his head and his demeanor reflected his status as a prince.

Astyr had only a moment to see the surprise on Facis, Gary, and Oshald's faces. Then he was engulfed in a large hug, which he returned happily, allowing himself to be overwhelmed by the reunion.

"Bain, It's great to see you, truly."

"Oh Astyr I was so worried about you! When I heard Fray was attacked, I knew they would target you."

He drew back to take a good look at his friend.

Thankfully Bain hadn't described how he would be a target. His blue blood aside, being Fray's most powerful wizard would make him a pretty little kill on the dark army's record. It wasn't something Astyr wanted to reveal on top of this next dropped bomb, his royal position. He didn't think anyone could handle too many secrets at one time. Mostly though, he was afraid. He refused to analyze the decision too closely. Magic would have to wait.

As Astyr looked on his childhood friend, he couldn't help but grin. Despite his lie, he couldn't think of a better place to be. He needed the stability the younger Bain could provide. They embraced once more, holding it a bit longer than necessary. They were brothers in everyway but blood. Astyr looked up to catch the shocked look on Ha—Facis' face. Bain turned to him then.

"Commander Facis! Thank you so much for bringing Prince Astyr and Princess Isabel home safely."

* * *

Harry simply raised his eyebrows, trying to integrate the new information. Astyr was a Prince. His lovely guard was a Prince in disguise. Even as Bain had approached, Astyr's bearing had changed. Gone was the normal man, the pleasant features, and the easy attitude. Even as he watched, Astyr held himself strongly, his back perfectly straight, and his gestures elongated and elegant. His very shape sharpened with intensity. It was like he was a different person.

Looking to him, Harry saw that he wouldn't meet his gaze. Was that because he had lied or because there was something more to his relationship with Bain? Bain led them farther along the hall, talking with Astyr quietly. Though he magically enhanced his ears, and he tried vainly to overhear, he could not make out what the boys said. Privacy ward. And a powerful one at that. Where had that come from?

They reached the end of the hall and entered a room with a pair of double doors where the regal form of the king of this country sat in his throne. King Bain looked up upon the arrival of his guests. Formally, he addressed the party before him.

"Commander Facis, Prince Astyr, Princess Isabel, Princess Esmeralda. Lieutenant Oshald, and Colonel Shole (Gary). Welcome to Haven."

Harry's state of shock seemed to progress. It continued to grow as, with his formal greeting aside, the king stood immediately and stepped down to Astyr, embracing him fiercely. Astyr accepted it, saying, "It is wonderful to see you, Uncle." Gary and Oshald's expressions were shell-shocked as well, indicating to Harry that he had also deceived the crew.

Prince Bain spoke up, "Please, Father. You must have business with Commander Facis. I will lead Astyr to his customary suite."

"Of course." Was the king's response.

Bain led Astyr out quickly leaving a thunderstruck boy-who-lived behind.

* * *

"I--I can't believe him! Facis! My walls have come crashing down, leaving me a ruin!"

"Don't be ridiculous Astyr. Your walls came crashing down days ago. It's hardly Facis' fault."

"No, Bain. You don't understand. He didn't tell me he was Facis. I told a fairytale about him to my sister and he didn't even bat an eyelash! I confided in him and he's a complete saint!"

"What? He didn't tell you? How does that work? I should think it was obvious. Big green eyes, black hair, elemental powers, greatest wizard ever born, big hero complex, and a huge panther animagus form. How could you miss it?"

The youngest prince of Fray stopped in his place. Bain was forced to stop walking as well. He looked curiously to his friend.

"Astyr?"

"What did you say?" He uttered in a whisper.

"What?"

"The part about his form. A panther?"

"Yep. Albino too."

"Oh Bain! I've gone and fallen in love with a God!"

"Explain."

Astyr explained how he had come to love Harry. How he was so human, so real. He explained about the sea monster and about Esmeralda's fright and how Harry had kissed him. He explained how they had dinner and talked well into the night. He described their perch in the crow's nest, learning to sail, the storm, and his breakdown in the middle of the night. He explained how Fate showed up and he'd been heartbroken, realizing that Harry was taken. He explained his feelings upon finding this wonderful man was so high above him. So unreachable. So much more a star than Astyr could ever be.

When he was done, he felt drained. He felt no better about the situation but somehow it was nice for someone else to be burdened with his problems. Bain grinned sympathetically down at his friend.

He finally said, "So you're attracted to men?"

That seemed to be all it took. "You heartless bastard! Here I am pouring my heart out and of course you notice only the most trivial part!"

Bain laughed and led his friend away. They spent the evening together, remembering good times and mourning the loss at Fray. They drank and played games and exchanged stories to make up for the last year of separation. They fell asleep on a couch in Astyr's outer rooms, letting the fire burn down to glowing embers.

* * *

"Your Majesty, we saved as many of the citizens in Fray as we could. Those outside of the city will surely fall to the advances of the dark army." Harry took on a grim countenance, trying to ignore the Sparkle situation.

"Yes." The elder Bain replied regretfully. "I have already sent what knights I have to evacuate the isles. I fear many of the wonders of Fray will be lost. It is good that you brought back an heir, though. Astyr will have to step up and lead his peoples. I regret his father and brother's deaths. They were dear to my heart."

"Astyr's…brother is not lost to us. He was ported elsewhere in the last minutes of Fray's fall. I ensured the remaining royals' safe passage."

"That is wonderful news, Facis. You have my gratitude and that of my world. Fenton's death would be devastating. He is also a born leader and will be a rallying point for his people. I have set up refugee camps along the east river ten miles from here. The Frayans are badly shook and will need a member of the royal line as a symbol in order to win back their homeland."

"I admire your compassion, Your Majesty, but it seems odd to me that you would take in so many people without the hope to gain anything."

The king smiled kindly at Harry's confusion despite the formal setting. They were seated in an audience chamber, with the king's primary advisors to either side of him and with Harry sitting across from him in a high-backed chair. They had retired to discuss the siege and the dark army's impact. It was not looking good.

"If I may say it Commander, you mistakenly assume that Fray is just another country. It is not. It is the child of all of our endeavors, the epitome of education and culture in this world. We do not have such advances as some of the universes that ally with us have but we have an integrity that few can uphold. It is not honor or chivalry but instead, a wonder for the greatness of a place. If you ever visited Fray outside of wartime, you would feel the heaviness in the air and the magic in the ground. The people are intelligent and happy, wishing for nothing but continued life. Such peace and serenity is highly sought after but almost never found. I said that the loss of Fenton would be devastating, but I do not mean in a political sense."

Here the king paused to search for the right words. Next to him, his advisors stirred with his conviction.

"Astyr is not a weak man and he could easily step into his brother's place. No, I meant that Fenton and indeed, all of the children of Fray, royal or otherwise, are a gift bestowed upon us. You must wonder why Fray is so small, why the islands are not grown to meet the growth of their people."

Harry blinked but didn't interrupt the king. He had never heard of islands growing.

"Facis, it is because this world needs as many gifts as it can get. My country and every other country either in the council or not will take in a Frayan soul. They are precious and they disperse the wealth of their knowledge and skill to the rest of us weary lifers."

The king adopted a wry smile and continued.

"They are self-sacrificing and self sufficient and there can never be enough of them. The islands do not grow because the people of Fray are people of the world. They are at home whereever they go. Their country is not bound by oceans or national borders. Fenton, Astyr, and Isabel were born into the golden age of Fray. They are widely considered the children of the masses. The world would lament the loss of the heir. Many of my advisors and loyal men were once children of Fray. They mourn Fray's downfall even as I do."

Harry allowed this information to soak in. He hadn't understood the significance of Astyr's words that night. He had tried to explain Fray's importance but Harry had brushed it off as patriotism. Now, he was awed at this united view. He was slowly coming to know who Astyr was. It frightened him that he was so different from his initial impression.

"Fray's golden age has ended." Harry said quietly.

"It has." The king agreed.

* * *

A week passed in a blur of meetings, introductions, and politics. Harry attended strategy sessions and helped to organize the refugee effort as much as possible. Astyr fronted most of the operations concerning his people. He spent nearly everyday going to and from the refugee camps. He comforted those in distress and helped mobilize the people. After some long distance communication with his recovering brother, Astyr announced to the king and his advisors that Fenton would be staying in Istea for the time being. He hoped to organize a militia and base his operations for reclaiming Fray there. That announcement was the only time Harry saw Astyr all week. They seemed to avoid each other.

* * *

"You've been working too hard." Bain informed Astyr as he sat down for lunch in the kitchens.

"I have not been working hard enough, Bain. Everyday, my people suffer without their homeland. I sit in luxury while they wallow in ruin."

"Don't be like that Astyr. You know my father has done all he can for your people. I don't think this about that. This mood is entirely self-pitying and I, for one, am over it."

Saying this Bain stood up, and snatched the bread from Astyr's fingers.

"You," He informed his outraged friend "need to cheer up."

"You—you…" Astyr stuttered.

"I what? This is all about Facis, isn't it? You've been avoiding him all week. Why don't you just talk to him already?"

"I can't. He doesn't want to see me. He probably doesn't even remember my name."

"You're being ridiculous...Tell you what, let's go duel in the west practice yards. I have been practicing and I think I'll last longer than a minute before you take me down."

A smile began to spread on Astyr's features. "Alright." He said, pushing his seat back.

"Oh, and one more thing. Let's race there shall we?"

Before Astyr could comprehend what his friend said, he was being shoved back onto his chair and Bain was out the door in a flash.

Laughing, Bain ran, quickly chased by a barely contained Astyr. Their laughter filled the hallways, drawing smiles out of the maids and passing servants. Astyr chased his friend through the dining hall, vaulting chairs and benches. They barreled outside via a convenient servants' access, running across the lawns, right in front of the strolling forms of King Bain and Facis. Neither noticed, only running by. They heard from the furious Astyr "I'll get you for that!" before he sped away.

Bemused, they watched as Bain led Astyr over the bridge spanning the river, which ran directly through the palace grounds. The river was calm and all sorts of birds and animal life used its waters as a home of peaceful solitude. The river was lined with weeping willows and gorgeous oaks. It was truly a magnificent sight.

As Astyr reached the central apex of the ornate bridge, sprinting to catch his annoying friend, he seemed to stop suddenly. Only Harry saw the shaft traveling toward the happy prince. Harry shouted and ran towards him. Bain, not hearing his friend's steps behind him, turned with a smile still on his face only for it to disappear as he watched his friend stagger and fall over the rail of the bridge, an arrow sticking out from his chest. His body splashed loudly into the river disturbing the perfect stillness of the gardens. He did not surface, gasping for breath or float in anyway. He sunk straight to the bottom.

* * *

A/N Aren't you glad you can hit the next button now?


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Harry ran as fast and as hard as he could. In his panic, he forgot his magic. He forgot his abilities. He could think of no magic that could get him _there_. If it'd been anyone else he could have thought rationally and paused to take the situation in. He could have called on the water to bring him to the shore. He could have used a bubblehead charm, a blood-clotting spell, or a levicorpus.

But for Astyr? Harry didn't even consider the option. He just needed to get to him. He didn't stop as he reached the bridge, only jumping the rail and diving into the water. He hit and plunged straight down swimming hard towards the bottom. There, with his sword weighing him down was Astyr, unconscious and bleeding on the riverbed.

Harry unclipped his sword and grabbed him around the waist, careful of the embedded arrow. He swam him up to the surface and then quickly to the shore, both Bains looking on anxiously. Harry, calm in the face of danger, laughing in the face of death, bold in the face of defeat was now panicking, afraid more than he could remember being in recent history. His heart racing and his teeth clenched in worry, he straddled the frail chest before him.

He needed to remove the arrow from the lung before they could function enough to expire the water. He grimaced at the wound. Likely, the arrow tip would catch on a rib if he did not remove it the way it had gone in. His complexion a deathly pale and his lips tight with fear, Harry took a firm grip on the shaft and pulled up sharply. Bain let out a yelp at this show of brutality but didn't question the hero's actions. He knew if anyone was going to save his friend, it would be Facis.

Harry immediately put his palms to the wound, the arrow shaft disintegrating as Harry discarded it. He loosened his grip on his magic and let it overwhelm him and the surrounding area. The magical aura from this release was strong and the grass seemed to gravitate towards him. Bits of rock and leaves on the ground began to float and lose their structure, deteriorating like the arrow. A golden glow surrounded Harry's palms, blinding the attendants and bystanders as they watched or hurried forward. Beads of sweat began pouring down Harry's forehead as he let loose all of the magic he had at his disposal into the wound. Harry's neck muscles were tense and he shook but he never took his gaze off of the wound and his hands. The glow intensified and Harry, unable to hold it back any longer, let out a pained cry that echoed around the grounds and sent chills down every spine within hearing distance.

Harry's look of pure pain morphed into something more relaxed, as his energy and magic left him. What would have been impossible for any amount of mediwitches took Harry a minute to accomplish. The skin and flesh of the wound was flawlessly healed. To the royals of Haven, it was a pure miracle.

Harry opened his eyes, which he had shut in the aftermath of his release. He looked down to the body beneath him.

He said in a low voice, "Come on."

Getting no response, he began compressions on Astyr's immobile chest. One, two, three, he pumped. His breathing was panicked and frantic. Harry then lowered his head to the ground next to his patient's, listening for life with his hands trembling in fear.

"Come on. Breathe."

Nothing.

Then, in a voice too soft to be heard, he let out a sigh in anguish saying, "Please, love. Breathe."

There was a shuddered gasp from beneath him and Harry's knees went liquid with relief. Astyr immediately started coughing. Harry got off of him and rolled him onto his side, shifting to his head to help steady it. After the water came up, Astyr fell back onto the ground gasping. The side of his face pressed against a pair of warm knees. Fingers stroked his hair as he recovered.

"Better now, Sparkle?" Harry's voice was soft and shook slightly.

"I dunno, Shag." He gasped out. "Why don't you…get shot and see…how much better you feel." Unbelievably, he heard Facis' deep chuckle from above him, the laughter rumbling pleasantly through his body. Astyr smiled through his panting at the sound.

* * *

Harry was relieved. He'd been afraid that Astyr would reject him before, but that wasn't even comparable to losing him to death's clutches. Hearing his voice calmed him, reassuring him that his star was still alive. The meaning of his response even startled a laugh out of him, where a minute before the world was ending.

Bain smiled as he watched the two. Really, Astyr had nothing to worry about. Facis obviously loved him dearly.

Harry beant down to hug the prince to him, allowing himself one moment of weakness as he reveled in this man's continued life. His head rested on his shoulder and his face was pressed into his neck. He drank in the smell of him, using it to clear his mind. Oh, what a heady scent.

"I thought you had died. I thought you were gone, taken from us." Harry said it quietly into Astyr's ear.

"But I am here. I am alive. What more does My Lord wish?"

His tone was genuine, his inquiry out of worry. He didn't understand why Harry paid any more attention to him now that his life was confirmed.

Harry flinched. That hurt, He admitted to himself. That hurt so much. He slowly lifted his head up. He tenderly brought Astyr's head off his knees and helped the young man to stand. He turned lest the other see the mist in his eyes and strode quickly and powerfully toward the palace.

"Gary! Find me that assassin."

Harry's order was cold, harsh, and completely unlike him.

Astyr could only stare after in confusion. He had felt that flinch. He had heard that hurtful gasp. Did he care? Did the legendary Facis care about him, a prince of a small country out of all the worlds of princes and countries he had ever known? This man has probably slept with hundreds of people, he reasoned, met thousands of people, been attracted to even more. What possible chance do I have?

"You alright there?"

Bain's worried face popped into his field of vision.

"Yea. Hey, where's the big arrow that was sticking out of my chest?"

"Facis healed you. It was miraculous."

"That's impossible! Such a wound would kill stronger men than me. I have some healing powers but not to that extent! Do you even realize the amount of magical output that would take?"

In the distance, he noted other people running towards the scene. The servants surrounding them were enough, he thought.

"Well how do you explain yourself?" he asked, gesturing at his bloody but otherwise healthy chest.

Astyr looked down, momentarily stumped.

"You don't understand. That kind of magic is the equivalent of destroying a mountain with blasting hexes! He should be dead on his feet."

"He is. He has gone to his bed. I doubt he will wake before tomorrow." Oshald had snuck into the conversation. "My princes, will you answer some questions to be formally recorded?" he added, voice full of mock respect, eyes twinkling.

"Certainly."

"Did you see your attacker?"

"No. It was strange. The arrow seemed to come from the air. I suspect there was some magic at work."

"What is your knowledge of King Bain's security in regards to magic on the grounds?"

As Bain answered questions, Astyr pondered the mystery behind his savior. He hadn't thought about it much before, intent on drowning himself in his unhappiness, but the idea of the panther being Harry was troubling. He remembered the night clearly. He remembered the deep green eyes and the soft white fur. He remembered the feeling of power beneath him and between his legs. He could almost feel the tender embrace of the fire as it cushioned his fall and spread out to become huge wings. The tender embrace revolved in his thoughts and became Harry's own embrace, felt moments ago. There was a fundamental difference, Astyr realized. The fire had been a magical conjuration. Harry had been alive.

Astyr's eyes widened. Surely it wasn't so simple? But of course it was. Why had Harry cared? Why had Harry saved him? Why had Harry paid him any attention, any kindness at all? Because he wasn't just some story. He wasn't just some hero. He was a man. There it was. He was a man.

Astyr's grin rivaled the sun in its brilliance (Bain shot him an inquiring glance). Perhaps his love life was doomed to failure. But as far as friends go, he had some of the best. He plotted how best to apologize to Harry, wanting to make sure the young sorcerer understood exactly what he was sorry for.

* * *

Dinner that night was held in the huge dining hall with large windows and balconies looking out over the extensive gardens and ponds on the southern portion of the grounds. Astyr remembered the extensive balls and galas that it had hosted in the past.

His own dining room in Fray was altogether different. It was less focused on the beauty of the surrounding nature and the pleasure of food and more geared toward grand entrances, lofty golden ceilings, and ballroom dancing. Astyr noticed as he walked into the room that Harry was absent. When he inquired, Bain said that he was simply tired from the magical strain of the day. Astyr was disappointed.

The King stood at the head of the table at which Astyr was seated and made a customary speech about the dinner and his guests. Tomorrow, a proper feast for Facis would be held. A huge party would fill up the empty tables and the gardens would be well lit. Hundreds of dignitaries and important men had been arriving all week to attend. Most importantly, the full United Empires Council would be there, or in other words, the kings of the 13 nations and their respective ambassadors. Astyr was his father's ambassador before he died. Now, he supposed he was Fenton's. Fenton would not be able to travel so quickly from Istea where he was ported especially after recovering from his injuries. Fray would be the only country under represented. Everyone planned to hold the gala in honor of Facis visiting their world. It was likely that there would be magical fireworks and entertainment during the welcome party. Tonight was just a quiet and thankful affair. They were simply happy that they were alive and were respectful to those who were not.

Astyr looked around him and found himself in an uncomfortable situation. On one side, he found the doleful eyes of Princess Sarah. She was a generally depressed and quiet girl. Likely, there would be no conversation out of her. She was only visiting, being considered as one of Bain's suitors.

Across from him, to his horror, he found the Princess Esmeralda. She looked as though she wasn't sure whether to give him a hateful glare and ignore him, or to gush and suck up to him in an attempt to win back Facis' favor. She didn't know that they hadn't seen each other all week.

On the other side of him sat Fate, the green skinned merman.

Across from Princess Sarah was an elderly noble whom Astyr could not immediately place. He seemed keen on talking to the woman next to him.

Across from Fate was a grey haired, intelligent looking man. He seemed at ease with himself and Astyr recognized him for a werewolf. Astyr wasn't concerned. It was not a full moon and he therefore needn't worry.

As the first course began appearing, Fate turned to him with a tiny smile. The werewolf was watching with interest. Astyr didn't notice him as Fate spoke.

"Though I think I saw you on The Dinghy, I don't believe we ever got a proper introduction. I am Fate and you are the prince Astyr, correct?"

His voice was calm and controlled. Astyr was both put at ease and on guard. As long as the conversation did not threaten him, he saw no reason not to pursue it.

"That I am, though I can't say I like it very much. I confess, I think that, now that my people are in good hands, I will shortly be leaving this place for lower standards, less pleasant company, and dirtier berths."

Fate looked puzzled. "But why? Here you are respected, admired, pampered, and appeased."

"This is true. It is all I have ever known. When I was on that ship, I wasn't formally addressed or specially coddled. I was an equal and I got by on my own merit alone. The feeling was heady. Besides, I seem to have a knack for sailing."

"But you would be leaving your comrades, friends…Loved ones."

"I can think of only one person who will truly miss me. Other than Bain, who would not be seeing me anyway; my sister is the only true loved one I possess. My brother is not in this country and, due to the war, I doubt he will come here. My presence will only hinder him, as he needs powerful allies that could not contest him symbolically. With two heirs to Fray's throne, not even my magical abilities will outweigh the harm that indecision will cause. There is no one else for me. My sister will be well cared for and I will visit her often for I love her dearly. My life and future is at stake and I feel I must take a hand in its shaping."

He glanced down the table, smiling fondly over at Isabel who was laughing at the antics of her dinner companions.

"And what of the friends you have gained, Facis and his men?"

"And what of them? I respect them and am honored by their confidence. I am sure they can live without me." Astyr was becoming defensive.

Fate lowered his voice, "I would not be so sure. Facis…Facis will live. But will Harry? That is another matter entirely, for the two men are not the same."

"I do not follow."

"Facis is a symbol. An icon. He does not breathe. Harry is a man. And he spent every bit of energy today to ensure a single man's life. I do not doubt he would have attempted the same with a stranger…But would he have succeeded? He was desperate for you to continue living. There is far more than indifference there."

So this basically confirmed his suspicions, he thought rubbing his chest. Harry did have some feeling for him, though it be of a friendly nature.

"Perhaps I do have a friend in him. In any case, I hope to perhaps see him again in his wanderings."

"Your mistake will cost you dearly."

Astyr was saved from making an indignant response, as Esmeralda, bored with the half heard conversation in front of her, demanded their attention with a sweet voiced icebreaker.

"Oh Astyr, you have such a pretty name…"

He flinched. He remembered the last time his name was discussed. It had been fun and had served perfectly as a conversation topic. Now he thought it was ill suited, Esmeralda's sickly voice twisting the words into an endearment or demeaning foreplay.

"Oh." He deadpanned, hoping she would catch a hint. No such luck.

"Oh yes! It flows like rocks down a stream. I might like to name my children Astyr when I have them."

Astyr gave her an odd look before deciding to ignore the first statement. The second was much more threatening.

"All of them?"

She laughed, the tinkling sound echoing off the walls.

"No silly, just the first one… Well maybe just the second. I fear that I will never find a man to create this wonder however. But I am not alone, am I? You and our dearest Facis are unable to produce a child of your own!"

Fate blinked and looked in amusement to Astyr who was blushing slightly. He knew all about Harry's dupe on Esmeralda. Harry had described the episode in full, causing the merman to tease him mercilessly. There was only so much detail about incidental contact that he was willing to suffer before he turned it back on his love-struck friend.

Astyr didn't really like where this was going. Esmeralda tended to avoid talking about the 'relationship' between Astyr and Harry. She seemed to feel shamed that Astyr had won over her and wasn't keen on spreading her failure through the gossip vines, which he was thankful for. This seemed out of place and therefore dangerous.

"Come again?"

"Oh had you not thought of it? You will need an heir, both to the throne of Fray as well as all of Facis' holdings and entitlements. Entire kingdoms do not simply run themselves, you know."

"My brother and his wife will produce a necessary heir for Fray."

"Perhaps. But it always pays to have another. Besides, Facis will still need someone. Have you chosen your surrogate yet?"

"Huh?" He said, inelegantly, not comprehending her insanity.

"Your surrogate. You know, the mother of your child."

So that's what it was about. She wanted to have Facis' baby. Well this could be fun. He immediately took up a pensive pose with his hand to his chin, leaning back in his chair and smiling wickedly.

"I'm afraid we have not yet addressed the issue. But you are quite right. I will have to take the matter up with my _lover_ immediately. But whom could we trust with such an important position? It would have to be someone very highborn. Very classy and beautiful. She would have to be smart and lovely. Oh, Esmeralda, whoever shall we choose?"

Fate was sniggering. Astyr himself was hard pressed to keep from laughing.

"Oh you have such a dilemma on your hands! It is equal to mine! I, who have searched long and hard for a good enough husband, who have found only lowly commoners, who have endured trials no woman (much less a princess) should suffer, who have gone to battle in hopes of finding a man to produce my offspring, I face as much a plight as you!"

"Oh Esmeralda. We are truly both in need. I wish that we may help one another. But…no. You would never consider it. It is stupid to even suggest it…" He baited.

"Oh please, continue my prince! What is it you wish to ask of me?"

Fate was positively bursting. What a stupid woman!

"Well… In my wish for both of our problems to be solved, I ask that you might be the mother of dear H—Facis' baby."

"Oh but of course I will agree! The solution is perfect, really!" She gushed triumphantly.

"Then you have my full permission, nay encouragement, to begin this attempt at once! You must bring the matter to Facis immediately. Oh but what shall we name the child?" He feigned horror. He couldn't wait for her response. She seemed to have horrible taste.

Dinner progressed with much amusement after that. Esmeralda seemed oblivious. After they finished, Fate and Astyr took a stroll in the gardens.

"Did you see her face when I mentioned living arrangements? Or our child's coloring?"

They both laughed, the experience having pulled them closer. Soon, they found themselves in a comfortable silence, looking up at the stars once in a while. As they neared a pond, Astyr thought of a question he would dearly like to know of the blue haired man walking beside him. And where was the harm in asking? He hoped he could be contented with the obvious answer, knowing Harry was happy.

* * *

"Do you love him? Harry, I mean?"

Caught by surprise, Fate's eyes widened and he answered without hesitation.

"Of course."

He looked over just in time to see Astyr's downtrodden expression quickly morph into acceptance and even approval before smoothing over into something unreadable. Ah. Now _that_ was telling.

"Once you take someone into your heart, you can never be rid of them. Harry came to me while I was preparing to kill myself. My life was stilted and lacking. Harry gave it life. He introduced me to human methods and gave me this pendant," Here he showed his little shell to the young prince. "Which allows me to wear legs and walk before you."

He gave Astyr a searching look. And finally continued, "I would not tell anyone in deference to Harry's secrets. But he trusts you and I feel you need to know. Yes, we fell in love. It was passionate and wonderful."

"Please, you don't have to tell me, I understand perfectly." He did not want to be hearing this.

"No, wait. I noticed, even if Harry did not, that something was lacking. It was all passion. We loved, but not as we should have. Most merfolk experiment around until they find their true mate, much like with humans, though the elimination and courting process is much longer and drawn out. We, however, have hundreds of years at our disposal and so have a more sensitive outlook when it comes to finding the one to spend the rest of our lives with. It is, after all, a very long time." Here he paused, looking deeply into Astyr's eyes. "Harry is not my life partner. We split 3 years ago. He was not in love with me; he was searching for his mate. Harry is not my partner. I do not want to be with him. He does not want to be with me."

He almost said, 'he wants to be with you.' But restrained himself. That would be too far.

Astyr looked stunned at this turn and "I'm sorry." was all he could manage.

"Do not be. I will find my mate. So will he."

They stared out across the water, Astyr's mind whirling, and Fate's attention focused on the man next to him. As a cloud passed over the moon, casting the world into shadow, Fate turned to his young friend and found that he had grown fond of him. He smiled at the longing on this boy's face. Oh yes, Harry had found his partner.

"Come. We should get back. Tomorrow will be boring but at least we will not be tired and bored all at once."

They trudged up to the castle and Astyr found he had a lot to think about. Again.

* * *

A/N Here is as good a point as any to explain myself a bit. I have been around a lot of British people over the last year so I no longer have a good grasp on what is British and what is not. I think that probably means that the two styles will probably mix. That said, if anyone wants to go through the whole thing and tell me exactly where I use the wrong words or idioms, I will go back and change it. As of now however, I don't personally care enough to do it.

Also, I notice that there are a lot of princes and princesses in my fic. I suppose that might have something to do with repressed wishes for fairytale endings…but its more likely because I've been watching Grandes Fortunas de Europa (millionairs of europe, or something like that) on tv and there are actually a lot more royal families than I ever thought there were. And that's just in this world. From the fic's standpoint, lets just assume that most of the worlds Harry visits have lots of monarchies.

And on another note, I thought it was a little odd that Astyr had this huge life threatening experience and then nothing happened. So every once in a while im going to have him rub his chest. It might even twinge at odd moments.

Tell me what you think (about the fic, not Astyr's chest).


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

* * *

Fate knocked lightly on the door, hoping Harry had finally awoken. An ordered "Enter." Was proof enough and he swayed into the room, smiling bemusedly at the scene before him. Harry was curled up in front of the fire, a book in his lap and a glass of wine in his hand. He looked pale but also as though he were recovering.

"I had a very interesting night, My Pharaoh."

It was a standing joke between them. It was really the only epithet that Harry had not been awarded.

"Oh? Do tell."

"Well. I sat with a very obnoxious princess from Saird Nole and a very _handsome_ prince from Fray."

"Hands off." Harry warned.

"The two talked animatedly about the baby they would be having."

"WHAT?"

In amusement, he continued with, "Well not between them personally. I believe that the baby would be yours and Esmeralda's. She is to be your, and Astyr's child's surrogate mother."

"Huh?"

"Ah yes. They had a name picked out and everything."

"Oh dear lord."

"Your child's name shall be Tierainney. His hair will be blonde, his eyes bright green. He will live under Esmeralda's care whilst you save people from destruction and you will visit him only occasionally. His favorite sport will be polo. He will be married to princess Hannah from East Parsh."

"Isn't she a little old? She is a 40 year old widow," Harry said absentmindedly, still dismayed at this turn of events.

"Yes. That is irrelevant. He will only ever wear royal blue. Or leopard skins."

"You're having too much fun. What exactly did Astyr say about this?"

"He said that she had his full encouragement and should bring the matter to you immediately. The agreement is only pending you actually having sex with the girl. Which, I might add, she is planning to do on the throne in the great hall. With leopard skin blankets."

"I'm going to kill Astyr."

Fate could only laugh.

Harry sobered. He knew Fate had not come simply to tease him about Esmeralda. Something had happened tonight. Something that would probably leave Harry thinking for a long while after hearing whatever it was. Fate was like that.

"I went for a walk with Astyr after dinner."

"He isn't…He didn't…"

Harry couldn't form the sentence. He was afraid that Astyr might have fallen for the merman. He'd seen him shiver when the man talked once, as though it made him tingle. Harry could not bear it if Astyr turned out to be single, gay, and in love with one of his closest friends.

"I think I talked his ear off."

"Why? You have never been one to talk unnecessarily. Unless you find the need to tease me."

"True. But he asked a question which I could not answer fully without a great deal of explaining."

"It wasn't 'do you love me?' was it?" Harry was dreading this very scenario.

"Yes." He said, surprised at Harry's accuracy.

"Oh. So he is infatuated with you."

"What? No. His question was 'Do you love Harry.'"

Harry blinked. Well. That was interesting.

"And you said…?"

"Of course. And then I proceeded to explain our entire relationship."

"Fuck."

"And how we had agreed that we were not each other's mates."

"Oh."

"As you can tell, I did a lot of talking."

"What was his response?"

"Actually, I think I did all of the talking…"

"Fate, you are not helping me." He growled in annoyance, putting his book down and rubbing at his eyes tiredly.

"It was not my aim to help you. I was helping him. Don't you see? You probably are completely head over heals in love for each other." Fate gestured strongly to illustrate his point.

"He thinks I'm a bloody hero! How do you love a hero?" Harry erupted out of his chair to back his inquiry.

"Passionately."

Harry let out a frustrated groan and started pacing.

"No Fate. He doesn't see me. He sees Facis. I saved his life, I fucking poured my heart into him to keep him from dying, I panicked over his dead body and all he can say is 'How can I be of service to you lord?' like I was some bloody machine. Or worse. A bloodthirsty princess."

"Actually, if I recall Bain's description correctly, he told you to go shoot yourself, too."

"I--! What?"

"And called you some sort of endearment which made Remus laugh."

"Shag."

"That was it. Did it perhaps occur to you that he sees you not as a legendary figure, but as a man with supreme abilities? Perhaps he sees you as a wonderful, intelligent, sexy man with whom he simply hasn't got a chance."

"Are you pulling all this out of your ass?"

"They are merely some conjectures I made when I observed a few choice facial expressions."

Harry ran a hand through his hair, contemplating this strange revelation.

"What am I supposed to do…?" He asked longingly.

"Simple really. What do normal people do when they want to impress someone?"

Harry stared at him uncomprehendingly. Normal people? Harry had never been normal. Well, he reflected, that's not true. He was a pretty average height. That had to count for something.

Obviously he wasn't getting through, so Fate decided on a different approach.

"Court him." The blunt approach.

A dawning comprehension swept across Harry's features. And why not? Flirt, impress, and act like a completely normal person. It just might work.

As Harry descended into a reflective mood, Fate made as if to leave. He paused at the door and spoke out into the quiet of the room.

"And Harry? Catch him soon. He may be gone before you realize."

* * *

The next day proved to be as boring as Fate had predicted. The sun was shining but it was not particularly warm. The day progressed in a normal way with very few events worthy of note. All meetings and political agendas were postponed in favor of preparing for the feast that night.

Astyr found Harry walking through a hedge garden midmorning. He had wanted to apologize to him since the whole arrow thing. He steeled himself, trying to think of exactly what to say. Finally he walked over to the man who had just sat down on a bench. Nervously he rubbed at his chest, feeling a twinge from the phantom wound he'd received the day before.

"H—." Oh no. He didn't know what to call him. Harry? Commander? Facis? He was saved the trouble as Harry saw him.

"Astyr." He said, clearly surprised.

Astyr took a few steps closer and drew in a breath.

"I…I just wanted to say…I wanted to say that I am sorry."

Harry raised his eyebrows, "What for?"

"I assumed, because you are…important, or busy…I assumed that you were callous as well. I assumed that I was beneath your notice and that you expected…me to be beneath you."

"But…?"

"But you are still...Harry." He was taking a dare. If he really wasn't interested in him, he was making a fool of himself. "You are someone I have come to count on as a friend. When I acted as I thought you would want me to…I was wrong, and—and I think I unintentionally hurt you. I was the callous one, while you were a caring friend. A caring friend who has just saved my life. And I apologize."

Harry was rather happy with that. Astyr wanted to remain friends! He knew he wasn't a callous machine! Harry smiled at him.

"Come on over here. Sit." He said, gesturing to the bench across the path from him. "And of course you're forgiven. I was hurt by that and I'm relieved that you don't think so little of me."

"Most would die for that kind of recognition and respect." Astyr said tentatively as he sat down.

"But since when am I ever normal?" Harry retorted, remembering his thoughts of last night. Then his voice took on a concerned and wistful tone. "Ah Sparkle. I was so worried about you. You up and got assassinated."

Astyr laughed. "And yet here I stand, breathing no less. Some assassin."

"Don't put him down. He was actually quite good. Short of magic, there was no better way to do it. We can't even find him, though I have all my men working on that. And he did kill you. Your heart stopped, your lungs were punctured, and a central artery was ripped. Your life blood drained from you."

"Then how am I here, my heart beating, lungs breathing, and with blood flowing through my veins?"

"That would be my fabulous healing skills. You are very lucky that I am a natural healer."

"And what else are you a natural at? Dancing? Planning weddings? Shagging?" He teased.

Harry blushed brightly and grinned saying, "Oh yes, definitely that last one. But from what I hear, you are better at planning weddings than I am. Specifically, that of my unborn son, Temainnery."

"Tierainney." He corrected. "And really, we only picked out the bride and color scheme."

Harry laughed harder into Astyr's amused gaze. "You do realize that this isn't a joke to her? That she is going to be try to sleep with me for the next 10 years?"

"Nonsense. It wont be more than 4."

"I'm doomed."

"Yes. That's what you get when you leave me to my own devices around mischievous mermen and stupid women."

Harry laughed. It seemed their troubles from the week were forgotten and they simply enjoyed each other's presence.

"So do you know what this big welcoming feast will be like?"

Harry groaned good naturedly, "Oh yes. It's going to be horrible. There will be dancing and music and everyone and their mother's best friend is going to want to talk to me and shake my hand. I will be required to dance with at least a million people because to do otherwise would be an insult. At dinner I will be surrounded by vicious matrons and at least 4 people will challenge me to duel. After that, the real festivities will begin and there will be countless jokers and clowns reenacting hideously exagerated tales about me. I'll have to smile and pretend that I am incredibly conceited. And the vampiric princesses will not leave me alone."

"Pure torture. You should just kill yourself now."

"Like that will work. Doubtless they will somehow reach me in the underworld and demand that I fulfill my obligations! And what if I become a ghost? My unfinished business will be to dance with everyone in the world! Oh no…Can you imagine that? The great fucking Facis waltzing people down the halls of the imperial palace at Haven. I want to see you try the Tango with a ghost. Just bloody wonderful."

Astyr was laughing, causing Harry to smile as well, momentarily forgetting his annoyance.

"You could regard it as one of your more fatal adventures. Your armor is a dress robe, your weapons are your wits, and your victory is survival by the end of the night."

"Astyr, I would gladly face a demon above those arrogant duelers, an army of trolls ahead of those scheming matrons, and an entire world filled with Voldemort clones before facing those bloodthirsty princesses." This Harry said with dramatic conviction, making them both burst out laughing at the end of the statement.

"Sounds like you need back up."

"Yes! You don't mind do you?"

"Mind what?"

"You will be my backup! When I am in particularly desperate straights, with a wall at my back and a she-dragon in front, you will sweep in and save me from matrimony!" Harry was excited. This was a good idea.

"Exactly how will I accomplish that?"

"You're a prince. You think of something. You've probably had your fair share of suitors and have so far managed to allude them, correct?"

"Sure. It involves the words 'flaming homosexual' printed on my forehead."

Astyr hadn't really been paying attention to his words. He regretted them slightly but was curious as to Harry's reaction. And it was true after all. He did inform most women that he was not really into them. His father had begun finding male suitors two years before but so far none of them had struck his fancy much either.

Harry's heart skipped a beat and his mind was reeling. Astyr was gay? That was almost too good to be true. He only allowed his expression to remain surprised for a second before addressing Astyr, failing at containing his grin.

"Really? Is that even allowed here?"

Astyr was confused, "What do you mean?"

"It's just that some places do not accept that idea. They demand that people wed the opposite sex. The non-magical community on my home world hates gays. Thankfully the wizarding world has no qualms. I, myself, wasn't lying to Esmeralda that day. It just doesn't seem to have spread as far as my reputation."

So Harry was gay. Not that it really mattered, Astyr thought with a touch of bitterness, What chance do I have?

"Of course they 'allow' it. Sometimes it is even encouraged. It depends on how many princesses are available verses princes. My grandfather was forced into a male partnership. It is really not a problem as any apothecary can give the ingredients and spells to create a child outside of normal means. My mother was such a one."

"You mean you use magic to create a human being?"

"Well they aren't really human. For one thing, the created person is unable to perform magic and they don't even have the small spark of magic that indicates that a person is alive. Technically, they are only machines. But they grow, have feelings, and have the ability to create. I believe the man who cuts these bushes is in fact magic-born. The entire process involves complicated runes but doesn't require a wizard to draw them."

Harry was stunned. This kind of magic would be invaluable at home. He resolved to find these ingredients and runes so that he could replicate the process. He knew a few people who would appreciate it.

"Well will you save me, Mr. Star? I am afraid I will not survive the night without your help."

"I will see what I can do."

"Perfect."

They talked for the entire morning, pausing only to grab some lunch, which they acquired at the outdoor entrance to the kitchen. They spoke freely, ignoring their surroundings and making their way down to the pond that Fate and Astyr had talked at the night before. Astyr looked over the water, remembering the conversation. Facis truly was a strange individual.

Lost in his recollection, he failed to notice Harry's devilish expression as he walked over to a tree overhanging the water. Harry spelled a rope onto a sturdy branch and walked backwards, up the hill to get a good kickoff. He toed off his shoes and readied himself. He jumped, clutching the rope and aiming towards the turned back of Astyr on the edge of the small dock. Harry barreled into him, pushing him hard into the water, whooping at the air he achieved before letting go and plunging in.

He surfaced, whipping his hair out of his eyes and looking to where a sputtering Astyr should be. He found nothing. The water was calm, not betraying the position of the errant prince. Harry began to get worried. He turned, grin fading, looking for the boy. Could he not swim? Harry regretted surprising him and forced himself to remain calm as he looked around. Very little time had passed but to Harry, it felt like minutes.

Suddenly, something seized Harry from below the water, powerfully drawing him into the depths. At first he thought it was a tentacle from some man-eating lock ness monster but quickly revised his opinion as the grip on his ankle let up and a boot landed on his shoulder pushing him even further down into the pond.

Astyr broke the surface, taking a breath before diving down again, just as Harry came up, gasping. Looking around, Harry still found no one.

"Astyr! Not funny! Come out now!"

Harry was at a loss as to how Astyr was holding his breath. Could he breathe under water? Unlikely. Harry was saved from more speculation as he was once again pulled from beneath. Harry's arms went up, flailing as he attempted to stay above water. Astyr was too strong though, and pulled him under again.

Harry surfaced again and was startled by a bird trilling happily at him. He glared at it.

His distraction caused him to fail to notice the water moving ever so slightly as Astyr snuck up behind him. He dunked him, pushing his head down and trying to keep it under, laughing as Harry struggled. Harry hooked an arm around Astyr's back and flipped him forward, dislodging him from his shoulders and gasping for air.

Astyr's laughter echoed in his ears and he growled, turning to the man, intent on splashing him. Astyr, however, was not very compliant and didn't end up being anywhere near where his laughter had come from. Instead, he had circled around Harry and then got his leg around his chest, pulling him close and putting his head in a headlock.

"Give up?" Astyr asked behind his left ear, happiness apparent in his voice.

"No." Harry said rebelliously and grabbed one of Astyr's legs, pulling him forward, causing the prince to lose his grip and go under.

Harry grinned triumphantly, only to become wary, as the other offered no resistance. Astyr slid into the water, following his momentum to come under and then in front of Harry beneath the surface. He swam forward, touching Harry lightly in the side before twisting around and touching him on the leg. Harry flailed, trying to strike the invisible person tickling him. He laughed as Astyr's fingers tingled over his foot and on his chest. With Harry disoriented, Astyr easily dunked him again.

"Ok! Ok stop!" Harry gasped as he came up again to find Astyr treading water right in front of him, his amused smile causing Harry to pout.

Astyr laughed at the expression.

"This time I do not have an arrow in me. I am told I am a very good swimmer."

"Good? You're swimming circles around me!"

"And I don't even have elemental powers to help me. Tut tut. Looks to me like you were just a little too cocky there."

"Prat." Harry said, splashing him slightly. "How did you learn to move like that?"

"I live on an island. There is water all around. There is not a single person in Fray who cannot swim adequately."

"Well I guess I won't ever be doing that again unless I stay safe and sound on dry land."

"I doubt that you will ever try that again even with that added security measure. I think maybe princess Esmeralda and her friends would love to know that Facis' feet are particularly sensitive." A conniving smile graced Astyr's face, causing Harry to feel a wave of attraction.

"You wouldn't dare!" He said as the words sunk in.

"Would I? I don't know…"

"You're a bloody slytherin in disguise!" Harry said with a mourning tone.

"A what?"

"Never mind. Let's go. I want to get out as soon as possible in order to save myself the humiliation of one more dunking." Harry said this as they approached the dock off to the left of the tree.

"Certainly." Astyr replied.

Then he dunked Harry again. He scrambled quickly up onto the dock and stood above him as he resurfaced. Harry came up gasping and glared at Astyr's triumphant grin.

* * *

A/N It seems like this entire chapter is unintentionally conversation. Sorry.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

* * *

Night was fast in coming against the wishes of a certain forlorn hero. He dressed in all black. The cut was striking in its simplicity. His shirt was a simple turtleneck, covering his arms. He wore plain black slacks and soft black shoes. It was well fitted and he seemed to move like a regal shadow. He wore a simple black cloak on one shoulder that reached to his waist. It was pinned with a silver circular phoenix brooch. Harry liked how dark and mysterious it made him feel. He would be expected to arrive fashionably late and so opted to read a book in the meantime.

* * *

Astyr decided to wear a deep green. It would bring out the green in his eyes and reminded him of Harry. He wore simple white trousers and a double-breasted green ceremonial coat over a simple white shirt. His cape was green and swept down until it almost touched the floor. No doubt it would make him look majestic. He eyed it with distaste.

He looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. He never bothered with his hair, believing it looked fine and that no one would notice or care if he tidied it or not. He briefly donned a silver circlet and then ignored his head. He was more worried about his left shoulder. There, glinting in the candlelight, were the medallions that he had earned over the last few years. He was only proud of a few of them.

2 were crown service awards. They indicated he had saved the life of one of his own royal family and one of the family in Istea. One was a battle general ranking pin. His father had presented it to him when he had helped to defend the walls during the siege for 2 days. The third day his father had died. 5 Were in recognition to his magical titles. He had not owned up to all of them but those he had, he had been given pins for. One for Runes, one for Wizardry, one for Animagus, one for Conjuration and Charms, one for Creation and one for High Mage of Fray.

His other 2 pins were for his status as an heir and his participation in the United Empires Council. He had traveled far more than his brother, accompanying the ambassadors as he was expected to represent Fray once Fenton was crowned.

Astyr knew there was a chance that Harry didn't know what the pins meant. Some however, were obvious. His Rune pin was an actual rune meaning 'master'. His Animagus was shaped like his form. His Conjuration and Charms medallions were chained together and they were in the shape of ancient symbols representing these arts. He was not sure how well Harry might take it.

Astyr sighed. He took a last look and strode out of the room. His bearing every inch the confident prince, he traversed the halls, smiling and nodding as the servants bowed to him. In formal wear, he invoked respect while his normal clothes rendered him nondescript. Though he never thought about it, Astyr was very powerful in his world. His magical acknowledgements alone would force a king to bow low.

Astyr entered the throne room and smiled secretly at what he saw. He had been afraid that dignitaries from other worlds would attend. That would mean that he would be well outranked because they would not know his power. Other worlders had their own ranking systems that didn't acknowledge local custom. He would be shunted aside and he would not be able to help Harry. He saw the only people present that were not from this world were the few guards from Harry's men and the princess Esmeralda. Harry had not yet arrived.

He busied himself talking to Bain and flirting with Bain's friends. They were mostly women though a few men did hang around and talk. Bain was at ease, laughing with the girls and Astyr.

"You know, you are only leading them on. They cannot take their eyes off of you and yet you hold no interest in them." Bain muttered to him, grinning slightly at the look on one love struck lady.

"I am not so good looking as you say Bain. I do not doubt they will forget me shortly. Prince Farland over there is my superior in beauty and poise."

He indicated a tall boy that had not liked Bain and Astyr much when they were children. Now he was very attractive and spent most of his time participating in clandestine trysts and breaking young girls hearts.

"Have you looked in a mirror lately? You by far outstrip him. It isn't a wonder that Facis is so ensnared." Bain teased.

"Impossible. Perhaps we will have to ask him to look at your head because you are clearly deranged."

"Ill bet that by the time we're both thirty, you will be a happy couple, deeply in love."

"Why thirty?"

"Because I have no idea how long it'll take you to realize it, you stubborn mule."

Astyr agreed to the bet, making the stakes a back massage for the winner.

"Can you imagine?" Astyr joked, "The future king giving a lowly pirate a back massage?"

"Lowly pirate?"

"Yes. I'm leaving for a better life." He informed him, merriment fading.

"Better? Life as a pirate is better?"

"Well I'm going to be a deckhand." He informed him. Bain shot him a worried look before their attention was caught by the figure coming in the doorway.

Harry's grand entrance was a very majestic affair. Everyone turned and stared at him, silence sweeping the room. Soon applause began ringing and Harry wanted to groan. He locked eyes with Astyr who smiled reassuringly at him from the other side of the room. Harry could only wonder how he was going to save him from all the way over there.

"I have to go." He told Bain, "I promised I would save him from vampirism."

Bain smiled slightly, the worried look not leaving his eyes. He turned over to a girl, looking back just enough to say, "Talk later."

Astyr knew what it would be about. He resolved to convince his friend that it was a good idea before making his way to the back of the room. He had surveyed the people around him when he arrived and he knew exactly who would go after Harry first. He figured Harry would have to endure whoever she was for at least a little while. He would cut in with a demand for some king to see him or some other excuse.

And so it went, the women piling up around the hero as he desperately tried to fend them off. His face emotionless, he spoke with each of them, answering in polite but curt sentences. When it became too much, Astyr would interject, speaking with Harry for a time about something important or trivial. The princesses seemed frustrated but bowed to him when he came to Facis.

Harry was confused by that but did not show it. He was just grateful for the release. They spoke about the differences between their worlds and Harry even found himself interested despite the oppressive mob of people. Often Astyr himself was called away, making Harry realize that he had his own duties at the party. Astyr would go and speak with official looking dignitaries and some very mighty advisors. Harry observed through the walls of people, as, though everyone else would bow to these men, Astyr would not. He would receive the bows but often followed them up with hugs or familiar hand shakes. Just how powerful was his Sparkle, anyway? He seemed too young to be of any consequence yet he bowed to no one.

As Astyr was speaking to a member of the council and a prominent merchant who controlled most of the eastern half of the seas, he heard a low and angry voice. Had he not been listening for it, he would not have heard. The others continued speaking but Astyr excused himself quickly and slipped over to Facis.

Harry was calm looking, his pale face framed by his dark locks which matched the rest of his attire. His eyes were bright and his mouth was relaxed. He looked composed. Astyr knew better. He could feel the anger coming off the man in waves through his empathic abilities. Astyr usually had it blocked so he was surprised that he felt anything at all. Harry was probably close to bursting with fury.

Astyr took a glance to the woman before him. She was very beautiful with a long red dress and dark black hair pulled up into a complicated bun. She was looking at Facis with a raised eyebrow, obviously waiting for an answer.

Astyr cut in, hoping to diffuse the situation.

"Tatiana! I haven't seen you since the jousting tournament 3 years ago. How is the queen?"

He ignored the other women around them who bowed as he stepped forward.

Tatiana turned and smiled brilliantly and curtsied.

"Why, Astyr! You look wonderful."

Her eyes became half lidded and she moved in a sultry manner as she took a step closer.

"My mother is dead. I will have the kingdom shortly."

Astyr was disgusted. She had always been extremely manipulative. She never showed her true feelings and few knew how evil she really was. Astyr could see right through her. He didn't like her at all. Harry seemed to be getting angrier. Astyr quickly took her hand, nodding to him and saying "Facis." Before walking away.

Harry's anger was not going away and Astyr quickly winked at Bain and sent him a mental message using a mindmagic technique that they had perfected years ago. _Facis is pissed. Do something._ Bain quickly made his way over to Harry whose wine glass was filled with suspiciously black wine. Astyr knew Bain could cheer him up.

"What were you and Commander Facis speaking about, Tatiana?"

"Oh I was telling him how it was horrible that King Bain put up with a werewolf. Even if he does do magic, he should be gutted, skinned, and displayed on the city walls. Such a creature should never have been allowed to come near someone of royal birth."

She said this with a look of hatred directed to the werewolf in the corner of the room. He was laughing with Fate who was dressed nicely but without adornment.

"There are no laws against werewolves here. Magic is in short supply and no doubt he makes a good guard on the night of the full moon. Most nocturnal attacks take place at such a time. It would be advantageous to have one such as he prowling the walls, not ornamenting them."

"That is similar to what Facis said. I do not believe it. We also spoke of the value of creatures. I do not understand the man's love for them. All creatures live for the use of humans. A phoenixes feathers are for my hair, a stag's horns for my hallways, and a panther's fur for my feet when I awake in the mornings."

No wonder Harry was mad. Even Astyr was beginning to get angry.

"If I were to grace you with my presence in my animal form, would you pluck my feathers? Tan my hide? Use my fangs as exotic jewelry?"

"Of course not Astyr!"

"Then I would advise you to hold your tongue."

Tatiana pressed her lips together. If she were the type, she would have pouted.

"Well we didn't just talk about animals. We touched on a plethora of subjects."

She was trying to make Astyr jealous of Facis. Astyr thought she would have a better time of making him jealous of her.

"We talked about family. I told him that he must be grateful for his guardians for bringing him up so well. It is a blessing in disguise really, his parents murder. I mean, it's horrible really, but he turned out so splendidly. We really must commend them."

Ah. Harry was probably about to destroy the entire palace. He glanced worriedly over to see Bain telling a joke to Facis and the surrounding women. The anger hadn't left but a small, amused smile was creeping onto his features.

Astyr resolved to put Tatiana as far from Harry as possible. He drew her over to Sarah. Tatiana would probably either take pity on her and tell her how to snag a man, or be disgusted and revel in her own superiority. Either way, Sarah was a welcome distraction.

Astyr's job finished, he found himself engaged in another conversation. He slowly worked through the crowd, enjoying his friends and allies. A number of men tried to flirt with him, aware of his preferences but Astyr only briefly spoke with them before moving on. They were not nearly as interesting as Harry.

Dinner was served an hour later and the wide doors leading to the main dining hall were opened. Slowly the masses of people drifted into the room, finding their names at their tables and seating themselves while beginning to talk with their neighbors.

Most single men found themselves seated next to single women. Most of the neighboring countries courts had traveled here to attend the feast and congratulate Facis in his victory. Their entire Royal families came hoping to win favor with the ruling powers of the world as well as the Commander.

Each person was strategically placed so that they could speak with one or more of the people they wished to impress. This eased tensions because when a ruler found himself in an undesirable seat, he was insulted. This way the dinner could be riddled with political maneuvering, keeping everyone happy.

Being known as an easy-going man, Astyr was placed as one of the people someone wants to sit next to. The favor of a powerful mage was greatly sought and Astyr found himself surrounded by well-wishers and sycophants. He was seated near 3 kings from the surrounding lands and one from a far distance away. A young woman sat beside him and introduced herself as a princess of Istea (where his brother was ported to). The remaining places around him went to Tatiana, the same merchant he had been talking to before, and a young prince from a western kingdom.

Astyr found it ironic that he was considered to be so powerful that royalty was clamoring for his attention. He had no doubt he would be the center of this particular table. Everyone would want to talk to him. He knew that Facis must have it much worse.

He glanced to his table. Facis was sitting next to King Bain. The crowns on the men's heads around him indicated that he was at least given a respite from the women. He grinned as he recognized the other kings. They were all from the council and Astyr saw only one that was not nice or calm. This one was always cranky and would probably keep to himself.

Reassured, Astyr went back to his conversations with his dinner partners. It would be a long night.

* * *

Harry smiled as he spoke to the man across from him. His crown was simple and delicate, consisting of golden wires and small sparkling diamonds. He had a neatly trimmed beard and seemed wise beyond his years. Other crowns around his table ranged from large carved stone to inlaid with huge rubies. This one seemed to be the most modest of the lot.

He looked up, surveying the hall in amusement. It was full to the brim with blue bloods. Draco would blend right in. Royal families, it seemed, breed well in this world. There were so many other countries and so many noble lines, that the blood did not thin but instead grew stronger. Looking with his Sight, Harry could see many who did not have that bit of magic marking them for living. This new way of creating babies seemed to diversify the gene pool as well, though they retained most characteristics of their creators and heir status.

Harry observed that only merchants, nobles, and advisors did not wear crowns or tiaras. They made up for the lack in excess jewelry and large demonstrations of wealth. Even Astyr wore a silver band around his head. The glinting of so much gold and precious stones gave the feast a merry feel to it, much like Christmas dinner. Harry turned back to his dinner partner.

"…And then of course the boy shouted 'People are real! People have feelings and everything you do directly influences their entire lives! If you take away even a small percentage of their well earned wages, they will suffer poverty!' And of course we couldn't be more stunned. We asked him what he thought we should do about it and he told us to tax our borders. After a long debate about the advantage of taxing each other, we decided to try it out. And you know what? To this day, that little tyke's suggestion has made us all rich."

Harry grinned in pride. They were talking about how Astyr got onto the council so young. He hadn't known his friend was so well respected and liked.

"The council agreed to let a twelve year old join? That is a little preposterous."

"Well we had all seen how he thinks. He was not at all biased about his own country. He seems to think about the betterment of the world, not just his own part of it. He provided a refreshing blast of objectivism. And of course he is Frayan. It was only a matter of time. We were already taking his suggestions into account, ever since that outburst when he was ten. Why not give him a vote as well?"

"I'll tell you why; because that little devil doesn't think about the consequences of his actions. He cost me an entire harvest because he demanded that we help the ailing country of Fluvan. An entire harvest!"

The man was sitting a few seats down and had to lean in to address them. He was bitter and sour looking and Harry took an immediate disliking to him. His crown was huge and circled his head, hiding his forehead with all sorts of glittery stones.

"It's Flaven, Gideus. And we all agreed with him. The country would have gone under."

"So let it! Then one of us could claim its resources and peoples!"

"It was part of the alliance. It is our job to protect all of our allies."

"It would still be part of the council. I would include it in my empire."

"Wait," Harry interjected, "He _demanded_ that you help Flaven?"

"Indeed. The boy can be very persuasive when he wishes. While he has only one vote, he has power beyond the council's control."

"Such as?"

"Well he is the youngest high mage we have ever witnessed, among other magical accomplishments. But he is also an heir to one of the highest ruling powers in this world. Astyr's rank is well respected and few can formally speak with him without subservience. For all of that, he grew up with common children of Fray. He has intimate knowledge of the peoples there. He was taught the required courses for a prince and has researched his own magical studies. But he still found time for his city and friends. The boy does not think highly of himself. His father was very wise."

He said this last with a regretful look, remembering the old king of Fray.

Harry was floored. What else was Astyr keeping from him? Magic? Harry tried to remember if Astyr had done any magic around him. No. How had he resisted? Even Harry had done subtle, little things. Yet he saw no wand among Astyr's possessions or any other kind of focus. Wandless magic was possible but mages usually required a focus because their projects were so big. He had to have one somewhere. Harry recalled his first encounter with the young prince. He had shown expert swordsmanship but there was no focus anywhere to be seen. Harry would have felt the magic coming off of such a strong artifact.

"Facis? Facis…?"

"Sorry. I was caught by surprise. I did not realize that he was magical."

The king raised incredulous eyebrows.

"Surely you noticed the ranking pins on his jacket tonight? Over half of them indicate his magical accomplishments."

"No…No I had not noticed…"

I was too busy looking into his gorgeous eyes.

As dinner and finally desert was finished, a band began to play and most people meandered back into the dancing hall, escorting women. Seemingly out of nowhere, masked performers and jesters burst into action, heightening the feel of carnival. Momentarily ignored, Harry quickly made his way over to Fate.

"Did you know Astyr is a bloody mage?"

"Yes. I suppose you did not?"

"No I didn't." Harry said, troubled.

Fate smiled at him reassuringly.

"Relax Harry. He was not exactly secretive. I did not know he was a mage but he did mention he had magical abilities. I do not doubt that he simply is not proud of it. Much like you are not proud of your own wizardry."

"But did he intentionally keep it from me?"

"Did you intentionally keep it from him? It's not like he is going to hate you because you know. The only negative reaction he might have would be in response to a negative reaction of yours. Rest easy. He is no less human or attractive because of a little thing like magic."

Harry gave Fate a long look before smiling.

He nodded, "You're right Fate. Why are you always right? I will not confront him with it. It really isn't worth it."

"I do believe you have a line of hopeful girls to dance with, my Pharaoh."

"Ugh. Sure."

When the dancing was finished and the party was over, dawn was only an hour away. Exhausted, Harry undressed and collapsed into bed, asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

Astyr smiled into the morning. He observed the new day from a balcony off of Bain's wing. His friend approached from behind.

"Why are you leaving?"

"This is not my place. I do not belong here. I don't even know where I belong."

"You belong with the people you love. You belong with me and my family."

"I am not a prince, Bain. I act like it, and I was brought up as one…But I am no more royal than a street thug. And yet I am not a thug either. I am not a citizen. What am I? Who am I?"

"You are my best friend, Astyr."

"Yes. And I must leave."

"Where will you go?"

"Somewhere I've never been."

"There are few places for you to travel to then."

"Take care of my sister for me."

"I will."

And with that, Astyr strode from the room, leaving the sad eyes of his friend behind. Astyr crossed the palace to where he knew Facis' rooms to be. He thought only that he would never see him again and that he wished to see him one last time. He opened the door, not even noticing as his magic unlocked it and slipped around the wards.

He walked softly through the antechamber toward the middle door. There, he took a breath and drew a rune into the wood. It seemed to melt and then solidify, the magic trails of the rune melting into the material itself. Astyr stepped right through the door.

He caught his breath. Laying upon his bed in all of his glorified perfection, Harry's body gleamed in the new sun. His black hair splayed out from his head and his muscled torso moved ever so slightly with his breath. He was pale but not unhealthily so. The blanket rested over his abdomen, revealing his bare chest. It was scarred by a few large slashes that strangely added to his appeal. A dragon tattoo in brilliant red and gold colors spiraled out from his right nipple, glinting in the light. The entire thing took up his shoulder and right pectoral. His eyes fluttered softly in dream.

And suddenly, Astyr realized, that dream was anything but innocent. Astyr's own face flushed as he became aroused at the sight. Unable to just leave, Astyr drew his power to him. He didn't understand how the wary savior had not woken up yet but he hoped now that he would remain asleep just a moment longer. Placing his hand over the nightstand, Astyr concentrated.

His love and lust fueled the magic's needs and beneath his hand, a deep blood colored light sparked into being. It grew and began to take shape. Astyr didn't really know what he was doing, as he allowed the ancient magic that governed runes to direct him. Symbols flashed in his minds eye but he couldn't make out their complete shape or meaning. The light suddenly extinguished and Astyr swayed. He looked to Harry and realized how lucky he was that the man had not woken. Taking a last look at his crush, Astyr ran from the room, sprinting through the hallways until he arrived at the stables.

He took a strong black mare that Bain had given him for his visits to the palace and saddled her. He loaded his supplies into the saddlebags and flung himself up onto her back. He urged her out of the building, startling stable hands as they cantered into the sunlight. He sped quickly through the city and then gratefully left the urban sprawl behind. He galloped away from the sun along the coastline, his heart sinking.

Harry awoke gasping from his wet dream hours later. He was soaked in sweat and he could feel the effects of his fantasy. He closed his eyes, remembering the ardent look on Astyr's face. He saw the sweat wetting his lover's hair, the glistening of his flawless body in the moonlight, the passion in his eyes as he came. Harry had never experienced anything like it. If his dream was to be believed, Astyr was better than every other man in the entire cosmos, a sex god among men.

Calming himself slightly he drew himself up and headed for the shower. It would have to be a cold one, he mused. He had a lot of work to do today. As Harry returned from his shower, he toweled his hair dry. He glanced to his bed and stopped moving in shock.

* * *

Thank You for reviewing! You are all wonderful and if you have actually gotten this far in my story, it means you were interested enough to keep reading. So express that interest. Or if you are only a little interested or even not at all, tell me! I really need to know. I feel worse about no reviews than if I have bad ones. At least then I know what's wrong.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

There, beautiful in the midday light, was the most inspiring figurine Harry had ever seen. The statue was a deep red color and seemed to glow with an inner life. Its paws were lightly perched on his bedside table, spread apart for stability. The streamline body of a hunting cat was poised above the fierce claws.

Upon the cats back were the graceful curves of wings, flaring out from its body. A rune was etched in black on each of the wings, following their natural lines as they curled. The wings themselves seemed almost to be flames in their fluidity as they flared out. The perfect glass statue was completely still yet gave off the feeling of tension and movement. Its tail curled back around it, almost as if it were lashing in defiance.

Harry was mesmerized. He reached forward, touching the wonderful creature. Harry didn't even have time to react as there was a blinding light and darkness enfolded his vision.

* * *

Astyr was trotting his mare down the road. He had made good time and knew how to pace a horse for maximum profit. He smiled at the freedom he felt on the road. His tiredness was forgotten as he passed through streams and across the countryside. He could see the ocean off to his left beyond a few hills. A forest extended into the distance on his right.

As though sensing something, his mare stopped moving. He frowned down at it. He didn't have time to order it onward as his eyes glowed a brilliant white and he lost consciousness.

Harry found himself in a bright white space. He refused to panic and quickly took stock of his surroundings. There was not much to see. The white expanse of ground met the white expanse of sky in some undetermined line in the distance. He thought that it could use a few more landmarks. Even as it occurred to him, the land was taking shape.

Color seeped into large hills shooting upward. The atmosphere flashed blue, detailing the horizon. The blue stained into the white ground at one point, rippling oddly. It spread until it encountered an area of sand and green. The green had shot from beneath Harry's feet, changing shade as it went, running into the brown of the mountain. The only bits of white left were on the top of the tallest peak that had sprung from the ground. Harry was astonished to find himself in a relatively tropical climate complete with breeze, palm trees, blue ocean, beaches, and heat. He even saw a bird flying high overhead among the hills. He made his way to the ocean, hoping to see if he could spot where this place was. He suspected that he wasn't really anyplace at all.

He reached the shore and jumped up onto a boulder to see farther. He was surprised to find that the boulder had hidden an array of other boulders, one of which sported the lithe shape of a man lying on his side, looking out to sea. Harry looked down, trying to find his footing as he made his way over to the man.

He slipped a few times as each rock proved to have its own texture. One was mostly black with exposure and Harry found himself balancing frantically as his foot tried to slide from beneath him. He did finally make it safely to a rock close to the man. Once he was sure of himself, he looked up and gasped.

Astyr was relaxing on his side, one hand idly playing with the water as it slid by. The rock he was on seemed to be shaped for his body and Harry could only liken him to a god. He had fire in his eyes, which seemed content and yet troubled. Harry knew he did not want Astyr to look at him with those eyes in anger. He was afraid it would be too much for him to handle. Disappointment from him would be devastating.

"Astyr." Harry said quietly, in shock.

"You know," Astyr spoke as though he hadn't heard the other man, seeming to address the universe with his thoughts. "This was my favorite place as a child. Everyone has their place. My sister often retreats to the music room. My father went to my mother's embrace. I come here. It calms me. The ocean soothes my fears and alights in my mind, tickling my senses and pleasuring me."

The words were slow and spaced out, as though they had all the time in the world and there was nowhere to go.

"You know where we are?"

Astyr didn't even acknowledge him.

"I studied the seas for years. I found the idea of so much water all in one place fascinating, like a huge fish bowl, ready to jump over the sides at the slightest touch. I wanted my animagus form to be something marine. Something I could swim expertly with. I spent an entire year trying to turn into a dolphin. It never worked."

"Astyr, how did I get here? What was that statue?"

"I know nothing." He finally heard Harry's pleas.

"Nothing? Think! Don't you remember me?"

"I remember a gala…And the thunder of hooves."

Harry let out a breath in frustration. Astyr was out of it and they needed to figure out how to get back to the palace.

"Astyr, I am Harry. Harry."

Astyr raised an amused eyebrow.

"Really Shag, I'm not that stupid."

"How can you be so relaxed about this?" Harry dropped his concerned tone in favor of slight annoyance.

"It's a dream, love. Just a dream. I fell off a horse and you are probably sleeping off your blood draining from the royal vampires."

"Can't you feel it, though? There's magic in the air."

"Fray is a very magical place Harry. It shouldn't even be above ground. We had to do some quick spell work to keep it up."

"You kept an island from sinking?" Harry asked, despite his confusion.

"Not just me. There were 3 other wizards in the city at the time."

Harry was silent. Astyr was right of course. This was a very elaborate dream.

"Fray has all sorts of magical creatures as well."

Astyr's words were still lazy and unhurried. Harry found himself enjoying the strange pace.

"There are the run of the mill creatures like Griffins, Phoenixes, and Pixies…And then there are the abnormal ones, the ones that are only on Fray; Crogs, Libras, and Fingleburs."

"…What?"

"Crogs are…crogs. They make fabulous pets. Libras are huge leopards with wings. We think they are somehow related to griffins, though the wings are unlike most birds, albeit they have feathers. They have runes on their wings, claws, and one on their tail. They are to be avoided. Fingleburs are horrible pests that eat everything. They are tiny and yellow. They have horrible little teeth which latch onto fingers and don't let go."

"Oh. I don't--"

"I have to go Harry."

Astyr said suddenly, his voice slipping into a quicker and more alert pace.

"I think the world is deteriorating."

With that, Harry spun around to see the mountains melting like ice cream, the colors blending and mixing. The sky seemed to come down right onto Harry's head, blackening his vision. He woke up in his bed with a gasp.

* * *

Astyr groaned as he pulled himself up. Apparently he had been there for a while because his horse was lying next to the road looking bored. She absently munched on the surrounding grasses. He groaned and hoisted himself up, alerting his horse and causing her to get to her feet as well. He grimaced at the bruises he had acquired on the way down. He scowled at his pants and froze just as he heard sudden pattering and felt the rain release from the clouds above and begin to soak his head and clothing.

"Great. Just bloody wonderful."

He paused. Bloody was a Harry word. He must be rubbing off on me.

Astyr sighed and grabbed his horse's reins. He trudged over to the middle of the road and mounted. He grumbled as he continued. The dream had been interesting. He wondered if it had actually been Harry but he dismissed it as irrelevant. Harry didn't know what it was while they were there and for Astyr, it really was a dream. Whether it had happened to both of them or not, it was still firmly placed in the realm of fantasy. The rain seemed to answer as it began thudding down harder on his back. Yep. Just bloody wonderful.

* * *

Harry glanced quickly over to his bedside table. There it was, the little red Libra. Harry slowly got up and approached it like he would a dangerous animal. He reached out and ever so lightly caressed the top of its head. Nothing happened. He picked it up and was surprised at its weight.

Was this a real ruby? He didn't know. He sighed and put it back on the table. He didn't know what it was or where it had come from. His scans revealed magic but not any that he had ever seen. Running a hand through his hair, he left the room and walked down the hall. He would have to cancel a few of his plans; It was raining outside.

* * *

Astyr grinned in victory as he crested the hill over Port Valor. It was the closest port to Haven that he could think of. He knew there would be a lot of protest when they found out he had left. He didn't want to be followed and leaving Haven by ship would have made it easy to track him.

He had taken his horse so they probably thought he was going to travel over land. Instead he would be sailing as far from here as he could get. He hadn't brought any money, and wore only simple clothing. He had just enough bread to make it to this place and now that he was here, he intended to acquire a job on a boat and leave with haste.

He made his way down to the most popular inn closest to the wharf. He opened the door and quickly stepped inside. It was typical with shabby paintings, wooden themes, smoke stains, beer smells, and low lighting. He saw a few shady characters but figured that most of them were sailors and didn't want any trouble. He made his way over to the bar, ignoring the slight lull when the patrons noticed his presence. He obviously wasn't dirty enough. Conversations renewed and Astyr concluded that he didn't look like he was very interesting. He waited for the barkeeps attention.

When he got it, he said, "I'm looking for a job. I am a good sailor and I work hard. Are there any merchants hiring?"

"Aye, laddie. There's always someun 'iring. Yous got yur normal crowd 'o captains who'll head up and down te coast, an then yous got yur more dangrus uns. Them that wont tell where they're off to, but most like wont be anywhere 'round the alliance, savvy? You don't look like you dun much work, boy."

"Oh I have had my fair share of work. I just stay clean while I'm at it. I'm not inclined to be anywhere near here. There are people looking for me and I would sooner go somewhere no one knows where."

"Den I knows just te ship fer you. Te captain's name is Berk. He aint a pirate but there in't anuther more mysterious den he, mark m' words. He gots a strict way but's fair. You go down to te third dock. He be waiting."

"Thank you, mr…"

"Bill"

The man grinned, revealing his disgusting yellowed teeth and holey smile.

"Bill." Astyr repeated.

He made his way out of the tavern, hoping not to attract anyone's notice or annoy someone. These people didn't seem like they would just let it go.

Astyr walked to the third dock and found landing boat. The boat was engraved with the name 'Safire' and Astyr could see the mother ship moored in the harbor. He was impressed with its condition. It had no comparison to the Dinghy but he could see that it was well cared for. He had expected a sloop or maybe a schooner. Instead he saw a magnificent barque, elegantly filigreed.

He looked around and saw a young man coming towards him, carrying a bag over his shoulder and smiling amicably. He was perhaps 25 and had medium length brown hair. He was not clean-shaven but his stubble was attractive. He had a confident manner and seemed headed towards the Safire's boat.

"Hail! Haven't seen you afore this." He mentioned, looking at Astyr curiously.

"I've never been here. I was looking for a Captain Berk? I'd like to see if I can't get a job."

"Oh yes." Here he looked slightly sad, "You would be wanting to replace Old Tim. He died of an unknown animal poison. Captain is hiring. But I doubt you'll get the place, kid. Everyone wants to be on Berk's ship. She goes far and has adventures that make any sea dog envious. I don't doubt half the town is trying for the position."

"I still wish to apply."

"Ok. I'll go on and mention you. Likely, Captain will come back here to see you. But if you prove to be a waste of time, he wont be appreciating…"

"Alright. Thank You."

The man jumped in one of the Safire's boats and rowed out to the ship. Astyr watched him make the 5-minute journey and eventually climb the side and disappear from his line of sight. Astyr found a pile of rope and sat down, crossing his legs and resolving to wait patiently. He really had nothing better to do.

He was startled out of his reverie by a shadow coming across his face. The sun was newly out, the rain having passed. He squinted up into the stern face of a man who could only be Captain Berk.

"You are the one who wishes to serve on my ship?"

"Sir." He said by way of greeting and affirmation.

"I wont have any funny business. I do not allow hallucinogens, narcotics, or herbs of malignant sort. I will not tolerate drunks, whores, or swindlers. There will be no fighting. If any of my rules are disobeyed, I will personally throw all participants overboard. Am I clear?"

"Yes."

The captains raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"I do not think that is sufficient."

"I have not ever tried or had problems with illegal medicines. I do not drink aside from wine on special occasions. I only ever get drunk when the company is wonderful. I detest the degradation of women that forces them to sell their bodies and I refuse to participate in such. I am an honest man, though you will have to take my word for that. I do not fight unless I must in which case I am a master swordsman. I assure you, Captain, I will win. And after my victory I give you my full permission and encouragement to dump both myself, and the dead body overboard. Is that sufficient Sir?"

Astyr's voice was clear and without inflection. He stated these facts and faced the captain, curious to see his verdict.

After a long look, "Are you sought by the crown?"

"Yes."

"Why should I invite a convict on my ship?"

"The situation is not legal in nature."

"Are you going to stand by that?"

"Yes."

Berk's curiosity was obviously piqued.

He seemed to make a decision, then, "Follow."

He strode off, Astyr walking quietly behind him. They wound their way up the street, the captains hands joined loosely behind his back, walking purposefully.

At one point, a man came from an alley. He was a typical sailor with long hair and the beginnings of a beard. He threw himself on his knees before the captain, crying, "Please, milord! I am a good sailor! I'll do anythin' sir!"

Berk looked kindly down on him, "I am sorry Mr. Fairchild. I have made my decision."

"Please!"

Berk just shook his head and sidestepped him, continuing onward. Astyr hurried after.

"Why is Safire so sought after?"

Instead of anger at an implied slight, the captain just replied mildly, "She has seen a great deal of adventure. Sailors come off of my ship and act like they don't have a care in the world. They are experienced and enjoy life thoroughly. People envy their happiness. My men are clean and dignified. Safire is well respected throughout the seas."

"What is her purpose?"

"We solve problems. We hunt down people, we battle pirates, we find lost artifacts, and we vanquish monsters. Whoever has the money for us tells us what to do."

"Sounds fun."

They walked to various stores while Berk bought supplies. He didn't seem to buy things in bulk however, and Astyr became confused. He did not question him until they came upon a clothing store and he ordered the tailor to take his measurements.

"These things are for me?"

"Yes."

Astyr said nothing. Apparently he had been hired.

When they finally made their way down to the docks once more, the sun was beginning to touch the horizon. Astyr turned to his benefactor.

"Thank You Sir." He said formally, bowing slightly.

"Chin up. You bow to no man when you are mine. And you are welcome."

A very small amount of warmth crept into his voice when he said this last. It made Astyr feel relaxed and homey near this glacial man.

They took Berk's boat back to the ship. Each used an oar in coordination. Astyr found that odd and noted it. As they approached, the ship loomed nearer and he could make out the detail of the carvings that seemed to encompass Safire. The lettering of her name was proud and graceful.

There didn't appear to be a single chip in her wood. It was obvious that they had recently cleaned her and fixed whatever damage she might have. Indeed, even as he watched, Astyr saw a man on a rope shimmy over the side and begin to paint one particular spot. It must be a final layer or something because he couldn't make out any blemish.

"That was from that damn storm a few days ago. It blew us about heavily. We found ourselves here, miles down the coast from where we were aiming. It is rumored that the only ship to survive without harm was one in which Facis himself was piloting. I am just happy she didn't sink."

Astyr made a noise of agreement, remembering the storm that had only blown them two hours off their scheduled return.

They reached the ship, Astyr grabbing the lines and fixing them to the rings so that it could be hoisted up. He fixed them and followed the captain up the side and over the rail. Berk looked to him in assessment, not having expected him to be able to climb up. He only gestured to one sailor who was not bringing the boat up, and walked away.

The man came over to Astyr saying, "So you are our newest addition. I hope you have had some sailing experience because we wont take pansies here."

"Leave off," another called, securing the boats lines. "He was handpicked by the captain hisself. He'll be worth it."

The first shrugged, non-committed, and held out a hand, "Jeff."

Astyr paused, then "Harry."

He hoped Harry wouldn't mind. He couldn't be Astyr here.

"Nice to meat you, Ry."

Astyr raised an eyebrow at the nickname. He wondered how many people had given Facis nicknames. Then he wondered how many people received nicknames for the fake names they made up. He suspected both groups would have mostly the same people in them.

"That over there is Sam. That un's Lit. Fella with the big beard is Ray."

He proceeded to point out each one. Astyr made sure to memorize their faces. He would need to know them in order to make an impression.

"Let's go below. I'll give you the layout of the levels and cabins."

The tour was short and Astyr was shown his cot. Then Jeff left him saying only that they would be up bright and early the next morning. He drifted to sleep, thinking in anticipation about his newest adventure.

CLANG!

The sound of a huge bell woke him the next morning. He groaned quietly but shot to his feet in an imitation of enthusiasm. It was early enough in the morning that a nearby porthole was still pitch black. He scampered on deck to find at least half the crew running around busily. Astyr could just see lightening in the sky heralding the dawn.

"Clancy, to the aft. You and Shale are on the mizzen. Grab the ensign halyard Fin, and hoist the sail. Sam, up the middle shroud. Secure the braces. Jeff, Crab, Carlton, to the jib sheets!"

Astyr watched the captain in his element, ordering his men around.

The captain turned, sensing him there and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

"Harry."

The captain just looked at him, aware that it wasn't the truth. But he only ordered, "You look like you are up for a climb. Up the main shroud. You can assist Dirk with the top sail."

Astyr nodded once and took a leap at the rigging. He had found that he was an excellent climber and he quickly made his way up to the royal yard. He began untying the ropes securing the top sail and flashed a grin to his companion. Dirk turned out to be a lithe young boy. He moved almost as fast as Astyr did, racing him to get the sails out.

The canvas fell and before it could billow out, they were drawing it in, pulling hard on the lower braces and holding themselves up with the stays. They both, by unspoken agreement, jumped out of the rigging, flying downward as they pulled the top sail taut. They sped down the ropes, slowing only when close to the deck. They landed lightly and secured the ropes on either side of the mast on the huge cleats placed for this purpose. Astyr looked up and grinned. Other than the mizzen, theirs had been the first sail down and secured.

He quickly ran to the bow, grabbing the jib halyard and clipping it to the sail. He recruited a few men to help and soon they had the canvas raising up and catching the wind. By that time the other sails on all three of the masts were up and the only thing left to do was tighten and loosen where it was needed. Astyr stayed near the jib, knowing most of the work would be done there.

He grinned into the salt spray as the ship finally exited the harbor and was blasted with off shore winds. They would make good time to wherever they were going, he mused. The ship was beautiful and streamline, built for speed. His thoughts turned to a particular man walking in the gardens of a particular palace. It's for the best, he decided. He quickly joined the line that formed for the tightening of the fore braces.

* * *

Harry was frantic. He seemed to run around like a headless chicken. He had enlisted all of his men's help, trying desperately to find his errant prince. Bain could only tell him that the young man had left on his own volition. Harry was less than pleased. The worst moment was when Esmeralda tried to offer him her womanly comforts, saying that she could please him better than his two timing boyfriend.

Harry wanted to strike her again but held back only because he understood why he was so offended. It was because there was some truth in her explanation. Astyr simply did not want to be here anymore. Harry was not enough to make him stay. His revelation sent him into a worse depression and the entire palace darkened with it.

Generally, when they weren't trying to cheer him up, people sympathized with him. He had become ensnared by the good looks of a prince and should have realized that Astyr was unlike any other man. They had watched the boy grow up. They knew that he was special, that he had different values. The favor of all of the kings in the world would not keep Astyr for very long.

Harry glared out of a window. He had allowed himself to fall for someone. And now he was paying for it. He did not exactly regret loving Astyr. Who would? He was beautiful and kind and smart and funny. There was no reason not to love him. But now it hurt. And Harry didn't want to love him anymore. Not if it meant he hurt this much.

He did not sleep the first night. Now as the second was approaching, he fingered his new statue tightly. Bain had been shocked when he saw it. Harry had taken to bringing it into the gardens to observe it catching the sun. Bain had hurried over and informed him that it was the perfect likeness of his dear friend. Harry had been shocked in turn. This creature, this libra, was Astyr? Astyr's form was absolutely magnificent. He wanted more than ever to find him. He had obviously left this here, though for what purpose Harry didn't know.

He sighed and let go of his anger. It wouldn't do any good. Tomorrow he would search the land for him. Tomorrow he would catch his falling star.

* * *

Ok. So I've never been on a barque before. But I encourage you to look them up and do a google search or something. They are very pretty. They lie low in the water and I love them. I originally tried to define all the sailing terms that I mention in this chapter but I have since removed that part. I don't want to insult your intelligence and it really doesn't matter anyway. If you're interested in where each person is going, draw a boat and label each part after you look it up.

Please tell me what you think before going on.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Astyr fell to his cot, exhausted. Men all around did likewise. He had busied himself all day doing work. He polished the shiny brass fittings all over the ship, and had found himself among the yards replacing sail ties. He felt contented after his day and the aching in his muscles was good. He fell into the darkness of sleep, sinking into his mattress with thoughts of his Harry permeating his brain.

Astyr looked around at the dreamscape. He didn't recognize it at all. He stood in a forest clearing. All around him were colossal trees whose branches were warped and twisted. The spaces between tree trunks were small and a person would barely be able to slip among them. Some leaves on the ground seemed to have a silvery substance on them. It gleamed and dripped like mercury.

Astyr walked farther into the clearing, avoiding the few trees that defiantly grew in the semi-open space. He was surprised as he rounded one of these to find Harry. But then, why not dream of him? He certainly occupied his thoughts enough during the day. Maybe this was beginning to become an unhealthy obsession.

Astyr grinned to himself. He slowly crept up on the seemingly stunned boy-who-lived. He wrapped his arms around him in a warm way, hugging him close and breathing on his ear. He let out a breath, letting it tickle his neck. He sighed it out as their bodies contacted and he smiled in pleasure.

"Harry…" He murmured to him deliciously.

"Astyr!"

Harry's previously stiffened body relaxed into him. He was relieved.

"Oh Astyr I couldn't find you. I was terrified that you had left me!"

"Ill never leave you, love."

"But you did!" He whined indignantly, wishing the world were fair.

Astyr just shook his head into his shoulder. He changed the subject.

"Where are we?"

"The Forbidden Forest."

"Ooo. Sounds forbidding."

"Yes…"

"Is this a particular part of the Forbidden Forest?" He teased lightly, turning Harry around to see his eyes.

"Yes. This is where the unicorn died."

Astyr stilled. It was a terrible crime to kill a unicorn. Not even other animals would do it. They were too pure, too loving and too innocent. The laws at home were severe about such a thing and as a result, Fray had the biggest unicorn population in the world. The island was extremely magical and they seemed to thrive there.

"Who…Who killed it?"

"Voldemort. He wanted her blood. I watched him drink upon her, and I saw the light leave her eyes…"

Harry's tone was sad and pained. Astyr had once read a book about a sorcerer who had captured a number of animals and a few humans. Before their eyes, the man had tortured a unicorn to death. The story went that every single creature there went insane as it saw such a glorious thing being abused. They ran around the countryside, killing men. Every one of them believed man had to be truly evil to be capable of doing that. The king of that land had regretfully killed the prisoners. It was not safe to do otherwise.

"Harry…I'm sorry."

"Its fine. It was a long time ago."

"Why are we here?"

"I don't know. Dreams are funny. They take us places we don't realize we remember."

Astyr found himself lost in Harry's eyes as he looked up. They stayed like that for more than a minute, soaking up each other's personalities. They wouldn't usually be able to do it but here there was no one to stop them or watch them. They only had nervous inhibitions and resolved to look away when the other did.

Harry gazed at those powerful hazel orbs. He saw the intelligence and interest in them. He saw the passion and feeling. He felt truly at home, at peace with where he was. Somehow, he knew Astyr wouldn't hurt him willingly. He took a step closer, closing the gap between them.

Astyr loved Harry's eyes. He was nervous about what Harry was seeing in his own but could only let himself get pulled into the brilliant green before him. They were pure. Harry was pure and wonderful. Astyr wanted nothing more than to hug him close, feel his body once more. Then his wishes were answered. Harry took a step forward.

Astyr opened his arms automatically and Harry fell into them, gasping into Astyr's shoulder. He hadn't thought Astyr would let him. He hadn't thought Astyr would even accept him. But he had.

They felt each others' racing hearts and let out their breaths. They hugged hard, trying to get closer than they possibly could, unwilling to be apart. The slowly sank to the ground because Harry's legs had long since given out and Astyr wanted to comfort him. They sat, Harry on top and still clutching tightly. Astyr crooned in his ear. They spent the rest of the dream like that, rocking slightly and feeling each other's presence.

They awoke content.

* * *

Harry set out at dawn. He wanted to catch up to Astyr and berate him for leaving. He grabbed half of his men and directed them straight inland. They chose horses, apparition and portkeying being less than conducive for a thorough search. They raced over hills and valleys, stopping only to ask if the populace had seen their quarry. Harry did not allow them to know who he was but that did not prevent the people from being awed by the large party of men.

They spelled their horses to be stronger, faster, and to eat up the land tirelessly. The peasants and citizens told many stories. They spoke of merchants on the road that may have matched Astyr's description but the truth ended in old men, herdsmen, and even women. Eventually they only asked what the people had seen to which they replied a number of stories, none including Astyr.

Finding no evidence of Astyr's coming, Harry switched directions. He found himself among mountains, forests, and rivers. As they moved, they ate, not wanting to waste time. Harry spent 2 weeks scouring the land, plagued nightly by dreams of his prince.

As he was about to pass the border into a western country, Remus caught up to him. He came on an exhausted horse, looking worn and underfed. He staggered into their camp early in the morning, just as they were about to set out.

"Harry." He said softly to a man, causing him to run to find the Commander.

"Remus! What are you doing here?"

"I thought I might find you here. This is the only pass you might take. Listen Harry. You must stop this madness. You will not find him. Scrying has not worked, blood magic, black magic, and even physical searching; nothing has found him."

"I have to find him! He might be hurt or captured. He might be enslaved, imperioed, assassinated…"

"Harry. Astyr left on his own. He chose to leave! He did not wish to worry anyone. Harry, this is his world. His life. His will."

"But Remus…" Harry's voice dropped to a whisper, "I cannot lose him. I love him, Remus! I cannot lose…"

"Oh Harry, I am so sorry. I'm sorry but you have to let go."

"Why have you come?" Harry sounded defeated and worn.

"I have been called."

"You?"

"We have been called." He amended.

"By the council?"

"By the Circlet."

"Then we must go...Men!" He addressed the packing soldiers, "You are going home."

The men cheered. They had not been home in more than a month and wished to return to their families. All of them had families in different worlds and Harry would get each to his own.

"Sir. Astyr…" Gary was worried about his young friend.

"Yes, Gary. You may stay. You will be my contact here. Find him. Keep him safe. I charge you with the finding and killing of his original assassin and his employer." Gary grinned and hopped up onto his horse. He would return to the capital, send the rest of the men home, and begin his search.

"Harry…We must go now."

"Yes Remy. We must."

With that, Harry summoned his magic. He drew a circle in the air and chanted in his head. As he concentrated, each of his men disappeared.

The last to go, Vera smiled and said, "Good luck." Before she popped away.

Harry smiled tightly but did not pause. He sent Oshald to Hogwarts. Then Cole went, and then Frank. Finally, Remus vanished.

Alone, Harry sighed. He paused a moment in his casting and looked around, willing Astyr to come out. When nothing was forthcoming, He left the world.

Astyr let out a surprised breath. Shit. A pulling in his gut made him clench his teeth. The men around him playing dice looked at him oddly, waiting for his throw of the dice. He slowly relaxed as the pulling settled. A strange feeling remained but everything seemed intact. He dropped the dice.

"Snake eyes! Oh that is unlucky! Better next throw, eh lad?"

"Yea…" Astyr replied as the dice settled ominously.

He dismissed the feeling and went back to the game. He refused to lose so easily.

Harry groaned as Astyr's fingers found another hard muscle and began working on it. He was laying flat on his stomach in the hospital wing and was determined not to notice the bright white walls and the potion smell.

"You're so tense. What are you doing that is so frustrating?"

"I…Ohhh. It's the stupid Circlet of Power. They have been calling meetings everyday for the last week. I am about ready to march in there, take over, and demand a treaty within an hour."

"And what will you use to get them to agree?"

"The lives of their unborn children." Harry growled.

"Ah. What exactly are they fighting over?"

"They want the right to rob uninhabited planets of their natural resources. It is complete foolishness."

"What exactly is the Circlet of Power? My father mentioned it often but I didn't listen."

"It is a group of wizards. Specifically, they are the top dogs of the most powerful worlds I have visited. Actually, it can be rather amusing. They have such different cultures and yet they manage to have one defining characteristic."

"Which is?"

"They all have the heads up their asses."

"You don't really mean that…?"

Harry sighed and sat up. "No. I suppose I don't. I chose them because I liked them. But this argument is pointless. Steeling these resources would destroy the economy. And the robbed worlds of course would be denied necessary elements for living evolution. They argue that these things could cure diseases but that would mess with their own evolution. It is all a bunch of bullshit. And it gets worse. Once this is done, new arguments will be opened regarding trading between worlds and then exchange of peoples and blah blah blah…"

Harry sat back with a thump.

Astyr chuckled. Harry was not having a fun time. These dreams had become normal for both of them. They had once addressed the possibility that they were real. After some thought, they decided that they might be but also that it was subject to unreal change. For instance, they could dream up what they wanted at will, or make the other say something they didn't intend to.

Astyr avoided telling Harry where he was though he didn't know if that was a subconscious block or real strategy. Whatever the reason, they were content with each other and glad for this tenuous contact. They had become close and didn't really know if it would translate to the real world. Their relationship status went unaddressed and waited for an answer.

They established a slight routine. First, they would come to the dream and find one another. It took some time but they eventually met. The surroundings were based on one of their memories and the owner was required to explain it. The only time this had not happened was when they arrived at a very dark and spooky graveyard that had Harry tightlipped and pale and caused both to toss in their sleep restlessly.

They would then find the comfort zone before settling. Sometimes they would hold one another as in the forest dream. Sometimes they would talk from meters apart. Mostly, they were close but friendly. They didn't take anything too fast, unsure about how it would be received, but also wishing that progress would be made out in the real world. The dreams remained otherworldly and surreal for both of them, but they were remembered and analyzed upon awakening.

"Why don't you leave it to them? If they make a stupid mistake, go and fix it and berate them for it."

"I would love to do that but I would only be making myself more of an icon. If I leave and come to fix mistakes, I am God. If I sit through their arguments and correct them, I am a leader."

"If you are God, you get to smite people."

Harry laughed at Astyr's impish look.

"If I am God, I am followed by pesky worshippers and blamed for petty mistakes."

"As opposed to stalked by fans and asked to fix petty mistakes?"

"Point. Okay. I'll think about it. How is your life these days, you illustrious Sparkle?"

"Well, I have made new friends and had new adventures. I am about to set out on a particularly daring quest…Life is good."

"Such luck! Be careful. I wouldn't want to lose you to some behemoth."

"Lose me? You have me?"

Harry sighed, "Point."

"Don't worry Shag. I will be fine."

Those were the last words Harry heard before he awoke in the room he was assigned to for the circlet. He thought for a minute before agreeing with Astyr. He got up and prepared for the meeting.

"Entering; Harry Potter, Emperor."

"Please be seated." Harry intoned traditionally, rolling his eyes.

"May I have permission to open this session, Emperor?"

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake these men of their ridiculous insistence on titles. Well today he would exert his power so he supposed it was fitting.

"No, Gaius, you may not."

The circlet looked to him in surprise.

"I will open it. You are all foolish. This entire discussion is pointless. The long-term consequences are fatal and I will not support this debate. I will no longer preside over this circlet, over your worlds and over this idiocy. There is no reason behind your madness, only political movement. I strongly advise you to take the well being of you citizens into account. I am leaving now. I expect you all to either get a clue or kill yourselves. I might come to help you when your worlds are failing but I will not greet any of you kindly. Good Bye."

Before the horrified eyes of the gathered mages, Harry, their emperor and most powerful member, disappeared.

* * *

Okay, so he had been a little harsh, Harry acknowledged as he touched down with a grin in front of the ministry of magic. But he was free! Free from ever attending those boring debates. Remus would keep him updated, he knew. He had seen his amused expression across the table as he made his announcement.

Harry trotted over to a phone booth, dialing the magic code. When the disimpassioned voice asked his business, Harry wickedly stated, "To fuck a hippogriff"

He happily pinned his button to his shirt and waltzed into the atrium. He would enjoy every minute of shocking the ministry with his arrival. He walked over to the desk where a young woman demanded to see his wand. Harry obliged and handed it over.

"13 inches, willow. Dragon heartstring. Everything seems to be in order Mr…Ha….HARRY POTTER!"

"Yes, thank you." Harry held out his hand politely for his wand.

"You….You!"

"Yes. Me." He said amusedly.

"I…You…Potter…."

The woman fainted. The other people in the atrium didn't seem to notice.

Harry swiped up his wand and proceeded to the elevator. He stepped in, noticing that it was packed with people. He entered and punched his floor. The doors closed and one man took an interest in the boy standing next to him. He looked to his face just as Harry unconsciously flipped his hair out of his eyes, momentarily revealing his scar.

"Ah. So you have got one of those too, eh? My son has been begging for one. They are all the new rage I hear. He says everyone at school has them. He goes to Hogwarts, just like Mr. Potter did!" The man said it proudly, lifting his chin. "He will become great someday. He is in Gryffindor. He plays on the team and everything. Do you think I should get him a scar?"

"Err…"

"I suppose I will. It will be a Christmas present. He will be very happy with it, I think."

"Sure."

Harry hadn't known that he was this idolized. Things had really gotten bad since he was gone.

"This is me." Harry excused himself and walked quickly down the corridor.

The man gaped after him. It wasn't everyday that someone visited the minister's floor. It was the first below ground level and only those with high enough status or with express permission were allowed to even touch the minister's floor button.

Harry strode confidently to the office door at the end of the hall. He knocked and waited with a slight smile.

"I'm busy Tracy. Come back later."

"But 'Mione, I came all this way to see you. I was a world away and it takes energy to jump so far."

"HARRY!" Came the squeal and the door was yanked open.

Harry was engulfed by Hermione's perfume and hair as she hugged him. He laughed and twirled her a little before settling and drawing away.

"You look wonderful. The high life has been treating you well, I see."

"There just hasn't been as much trouble without you around. It seems to follow you."

"Indeed. How is Draco? Last I checked, he was in trouble enough."

"And I still am. Have you come to bail me out Scarhead?"

The comment came from the languid form of Draco Malfoy as he lounged in a seat before the Minister's lush desk.

"No, I leave you to deal with your own scum, Ferretface." Harry retorted.

Malfoy got up and approached The Boy Who Lived, looking him up and down.

"Long time no see."

"Yea."

Suddenly, they embraced, causing Hermione to smile slightly. They pulled back respectfully and began to talk about the war. Hermione rang for some tea and joined in, offering the viewpoint from the British government. Apparently Draco was there requesting supplies for his armies as he fought the dark invasion in France. Hermione and Draco concluded their business and the three of them left for the leaky cauldron, grabbing jackets on their way out.

The three made a stunning sight as they traveled through the ministry. The French General and war veteran, Draco Malfoy, and the first female Minister of Magic, Hermione Granger, flanked Harry Potter, the-boy-who-defeated-the-Dark-Lord. Everyone who saw them stopped to stare as they walked past. As they flooed to the pub, Tom, the barkeep, was happy to host them, ushering them into a private room. They settled down and started to catch up.

"So Dray. Meet any new men lately?"

"Why, Potter? Interested? No, I am regrettably single. I have little time to devote towards such frivolities."

"And you, 'Mione? Anyone catch your fancy?"

"Perhaps. He is a muggle who I often see in my local coffee shop. I don't know how to approach him though. What am I supposed to say? 'Hi, I'm a witch. No I don't have a job…Well, except for running the wizarding world. It really is quite hard.'"

"I dunno 'Mione. You could say you are into politics."

"I'm just nervous, Harry. I haven't dated anyone since Ron died. I feel old. I am even doing an old person's job. I've already been widowed, for merlin's sake."

"'Mione, you are barely 20. Don't worry about it. How about you, Mr. Hero? Meet anyone that isn't obsessed with your toe nails?"

Draco smirked expectantly.

"I've gone and fallen in love but I doubt we'll get together."

"What!? You, Witch Weekly's stud-muffin of the year, in love? Do my ears deceive me? How could you not get together?"

"Well, it's complicated. He left randomly one night. He just up and decided he wanted to explore the world. I don't think I even factored into his staying there. Plus, all he really sees in me is Facis. The great and conquering hero."

"Were you ever intimate with him?" Draco inquired slyly.

"No. But we were friends. I don't really understand it. I dream with him every night."

"Wait, you dream _with_ him? How does that work?"

Hermione picked up on the distinction quickly.

"I think we share our dreams."

"It's official. Potter has gone loopy."

"Hush Draco. I'm sure it makes sense to him. Right Harry?"

"…"

Draco smirked triumphantly when no response was forthcoming.

Harry sighed.

"We are close friends. I don't really know what to think. He is the most amazing person I have ever met and I really don't want to screw it up."

"Aw Harry. You really are in love." Hermione said sweetly, touching Harry's hand.

"Gee, thanks for the insight, 'Mione. Really helpful." Harry looked down into his beer mug.

"Well sorry. I don't know what to say. He seems perfect though, doesn't he? I mean, he doesn't worship your toe nails, does he?"

"No."

"See Potter? There is hope. I can't believe you found someone you would prefer over me."

"Well, Malfoy, he may not worship my toe nails, but he doesn't despise them either." Harry said defensively.

"Ah. A bipartisan sycophant. I should have known." Draco smirked, leaning back in his chair.

Harry rolled his eyes. He quickly steered the conversation away, asking after his favorite quidditch teams and the next world cup. He would deal with Astyr alone. His friends could offer little advice. Only Fate seemed to help him much when it came to relationship problems.

* * *

Gary grimaced when he found the right pub. He walked inside. It had taken a lot of bribery, threatening, and interrogating, but he felt he was on the right track, dingy as it may be.

He walked up to the barkeep and asked in a low tone, "Seen any kids come through? Looking for work or maybe just for a place to stay?"

"Hmm? Nah. Alls I ever gets is sea folk lookin' fer a job. Gets plenty o' them, I do. But I reckon you're after that princely feller. That fray kid. I aint got any royalty in this house!"

He guffawed loudly, much to Gary's disgust.

"How about just an inexperienced boy? He would want work. I've heard he came through here?"

"Yea theres was one. Or two. But they all are lookin after the same job. Berk's ship were here a few weeks ago. Alls them boys were after a spot on his ship. Only took one though."

"Where did it go?"

"Straight out. I betcher it went to the island de mort. I heard a sailor talkin' bouts some king needin' an artifact. Berk's always goes for them dangrus jobs."

"Thanks."

Gary tipped him and ran down towards the wharf. There was no time to waste. He had to somehow get a ship that would travel to a mythological island. He sped up a little.

* * *

Berk grinned at Astyr as he walked towards him. They had become good friends once they realized that each was a sensible and intelligent man. Berk enjoyed the young man's spark and they had taken to sharing a debate or two during the long hours of the day. He was only slightly put out when his friend insisted on going to bed before anyone else.

"Why?" he had asked when the boy had warned him about his sleeping habits.

"Well that should be obvious, my dear captain. I have a love in my dreams."

Whether he meant he loved his dreams or that perhaps he had a fantasy lover, Berk had not been able to discern. He watched as the kid tripped inelegantly over a cleat and caught himself as the deck pitched slightly. When he was focused, he could get around the boat faster than any other Berk had ever seen. But when he was not paying attention or wasn't worried or in danger, he swayed like a drunk and was taken off guard by every wave.

"Captain!" Astyr had finally made it.

"Hello, Harry."

"I hear we are leaving known waters today."

"Yes. That would be the case."

Undeterred by his companion's unresponsiveness, Astyr forged on, "Exactly where are we going in the unknown?"

"The Island De Mort."

"Death's abode, eh?"

Berk was startled by his cheery tone.

"Yes. It has been described as such."

"Surrounded by perpetual black clouds, big tall volcano in the middle, savage man-eating demons?"

"Yes." He replied in amusement, enjoying his reaction.

"What's the objective?"

"A fleece, I think. Or maybe it was a goblet? I truly can't recall. Something about a curse. And maybe a locked up princess…"

Astyr loved it when Berk made a joke. He kept a perfectly straight face and never let on that it was humorous at all. He made you think he meant every word he said. The first time he had fallen victim to his captain's mocking, he'd stopped short in shock and gaped at him in disbelief.

Now he grinned and responded, "Nothing to do with the fabled Ruby of Death, I suppose?"

"Oh, that must have been it. I get my adventures confused."

"Can I get off?"

"No."

He just grinned cheekily and said, "Damn." And walked away.

* * *

A/N there are some pitfalls that, as a writer, I don't ever want to run into. One, When people are talking, I don't want to over describe anything but more importantly, I don't want a conversation to lose character. When two people are engaging in repartee, It's hard to give the impression of a fast pace without losing some detail. I don't want to sound like I'm talking to myself. If this chapter has any conversations that sound like I'm talking to myself, please tell me.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Night came and saw Astyr almost running to his bed. He could not fall asleep soon enough. He was missing Harry. The aching groans of the ship and the lolling of the waves sent him to sleep with a smile on his face. He arrived promptly in the dream world.

Astyr recognized the place immediately. It was his own bedroom. Of all the places, why did the dream have to pick here? Tensions between Astyr and Harry had been steadily increasing. Both had gotten to know one another but neither were willing to take the next step while they were dreaming. Waking every morning with a hard problem was not bettering either of their moods. This room was not likely to help matters.

Harry was in a corner, looking at the affects on a table. Astyr hesitantly approached.

"So what's the story here, Sparkle?"

"No story, Shag. This is my room."

Harry looked around with renewed interest. It was not what he would have expected from a prince. But then, Astyr wasn't really what he would have expected from a prince.

The bed was about the size of a double or perhaps even a little bit smaller. The fabrics were lush but not heavily embroidered or elegant. The general theme was a deep blue and seemed welcoming and warm. The wood floor was dark with age and the fireplace was modest but large enough to cast a pleasant glow across the entire floor. There was a desk with in deep colored wood. The windows across from the bed led out onto a tiny balcony that flaunted a beautiful brass telescope. There were no intricate designs or filigree and the room was otherwise small and bare. There weren't posters or personal items strewn around like you would expect from a young man's room. It was all very neat and almost unlived in. the only personal items which Harry had been looking at were Astyr's knives, whet stone, and bone whistle. A singe larger instrument was propped up in the corner. The shadows retreated enough for Harry to see that it was a bit like a cello.

"Its nice." Was all Harry could muster.

An uncomfortable silence took over, making Astyr shift and search desperately for a way to lighten the situation. Before he could speak, Harry cut the tension.

"Where are you?"

Astyr grimaced. They had been avoiding 'real' things. Usually the past and its stories were all they agreed to talk about. They couldn't operate based on dreams and speculation. Astyr didn't even know if they were still looking for him; if Facis was still running around the country after the prince of Fray.

"I found I enjoyed my time at sea…I have enlisted on a ship bound for the unknown."

"Why did you leave? Why…Why didn't you stay with…Bain, Fate, Isabel…Me….?"

"I…"

He couldn't continue. Why had he left? On the surface, Harry and Astyr didn't really seem to know one another very well. They had spent, what, 2 weeks together? They couldn't make any conclusions based on such a short time. But that wasn't how it worked out was it? He could claim that nothing would have happened…That nothing did happen. But that would be a lie. It wasn't logical…but Astyr knew that there was a connection. He felt the crackling between the two of them and truthfully something very real, very strong, and very unexplainable had occurred, though nothing obvious or concrete. Had be been running from that?

Astyr's face revealed nothing of his inner turmoil. His eyes almost bored into Harry, making him shiver with uncertainty and fear. Finally all Astyr could do was shake his head.

He asked, "And where are you?"

"I am home."

Astyr was startled. Home? As in, not here?

"What…?"

"I have returned home. The circlet needed me and after that business, I returned home to my family and friends. Here, I am not as revered. I am only the Boy Who Defeated The Dark Lord or some other ridiculous title. I am not a god. I don't think I could bear to be a god a moment longer."

"Will…Will you return?" he implied, Will I ever see you again?

"Probably. Remus lives in your world. I only ever visit him informally, however. I did not mean to spread my presence so widely to the people but there was no time for subtlety after we learned of the siege. Depending on the needs of the council, I may fight in the dark war on your world."

A disgustingly formal tone had colored their conversation. It suffocated the familiarity which both longed for, destroying confidence.

"So, I guess fate has spoken. I…It has been wonderful talking with you Facis…I…" Astyr was floundering.

Harry winced at the 'Facis' but could only blame himself. He was pushing him away while all he really wanted to do was push him onto the bed and ravish him. They had been close during the night, while no one was watching. They had learned more about the other and had fallen harder for it. Such stiffness hurt.

"While I doubt I will ever see you…in reality…" He attempted to hide how much that frustrated him, "We have yet to understand the nature of these dreams."

Astyr's eyes widened and he sat in a chair in surprise. Was that an offer? Was Harry offering a relationship perused only in dreams? No. It was more like a confused statement, a hopeful understanding that these meetings would not end. But could he do that? Could he love Harry…in a dream?

"No."

"What?"

"I…" He hadn't realized he had refused out loud. But he couldn't do it. He could neither love nor live like that.

"You are not coming across very coherently, Sparkle."

Harry allowed his amusement to seep in. He looked like a gaping fish.

Astyr blushed and thought to himself in horror, I'm acting like a lovesick girl!

"Perhaps the conversation is lacking in stimulus!" He shot back at the smirk standing before him.

"Stimulus? I am not being very stimulating?"

"You are not being very helpful."

Harry scowled at the bite.

"What am I to you? I keep you happy while you're bored but god forbid I refuse to entertain you."

"You're one to judge. You don't care whether I live or die, so long as I am a good friend. And when you don't need me, you leave for another universe."

"_I _leave? Me? You are the one who ran away when you couldn't cope with the hellish life of being a prince. It was just too much to take wasn't it, never mind what it did to your family—"

"How many friends do you have across the worlds that you have saved? And how many have you led on and then left to rot in their loneliness?"

"You have a complete disregard for other's emotions—"

"You have an obligation to these so called _friends—"_

Their words began to ride over the other's and it turned into a full-blown shouting match, the tension increasing at each word. Harry was gesturing with his hands and tendons in Astyr's neck stood out with his anger.

"You blatantly refuse to tell anything about yourself leading people on and infecting—"

"—do as you please, take what you want, fuck who you like and don't give a damn!"

"Who the hell are you to accuse me of anything! I work only to help people and I wont take this crap from—"

"You can't even appreciate it when people love you--"

"Oh--m-- So what am I supposed to do, let them worship me?"

"I…"

Astyr grimaced at the planks he suddenly saw above his head. The dream had ended and with it, the first fight he and Harry had ever had. Was this the end of everything? Would they hate each other forever? Astyr bit his lip and turned to his side, curling slightly and waiting for the dawn.

* * *

Harry shot up in bed, panting in anger. He wind milled off the bed, throwing his covers and stalking to a window. There, he deflated suddenly. He wasn't really angry. Even in the dream, he hadn't been really angry. He was lashing out. Harry knew they were both lashing out. Lashing out at the circumstances that would never let them come together. He took a deep breath and began preparing himself a cup of tea. He wouldn't be getting any more sleep tonight. Today he would meet with Oshald and Draco. They were planning on discussing war strategies before happily drinking themselves into oblivion. It was a tradition of Harry and Draco's that neither minded sharing with Marcus.

* * *

"All Aboard!"

The first mate shouted, signaling for the boarding platforms to be kicked off the gunwale. Weighed down by her goods, _The Lady_ lumbered out of the harbor at Valor. Gary frowned unhappily at the large tub. It would take at least a day to reach the island port that they were headed towards. It was once part of Fray but had gained its independence because of rebelling natives. Fray was considered an extremely intelligent country and it had let the island break its ties with the larger empire rather than be forced to take violent actions against the savages. Now it provided a great deal of goods for trading between them. Gary would have to go there in order to have a ship made ready to find the errant prince.

He was wary of the sketchier characters on this ship and was happy that the ride would be so short.

* * *

He grinned at the inn before him. It was upstanding and well kept and would be a relief after the previous one. _The Lady_ had dropped him off just down the street at the docks, the captain telling him of this establishment. The port was much bigger than Valor and Gary was hoping to find some leads here that might point to where Berk's ship was headed. Gary had no doubt the young prince was accepted onto his infamous crew. He was well educated and had enough of a mysterious air to catch a man's interest without putting him off. Unfortunately Berk and Astyr were at least two or three weeks ahead of him.

He strode in, happily noting the clean floors and dustless wine bottles. He walked to the bar and ordered a deep red, which he paid for and sipped appreciatively. Other worlds tended to have a great variety of flavors of wine, but Gary was certain they all had the basic elements that he enjoyed so much.

He looked around and noted that, as in most taverns and inns, this place had gossip driven residents ready to spill their secrets. All of it was at the price of a pint of beer or another drink. He slid down a seat and grinned at the middle-aged man next to him.

"Hello. The names Gary."

"Thom. What can I do you for?"

"Well Thom, I'm new around here. What's the latest gossip?"

"Its not nice to talk about people, you know sir Gary."

"Oh come on, I'll even buy you a drink if I'm feeling generous."

"Well I suppose it can't hurt too much, eh?"

How bloody predictable.

"So has anyone lost a wife, sailed over the edge, found a dead sea monster?"

"Well now that you mention it, Old Bill over there found a huge sea monster scale. He reckons it's off the one the great Lord Facis killed when he came from saving Fray."

"Fray wasn't saved."

"Oh? I heard about a couple hundred survivors who would beg to differ. The people of Fray are a very philosophical lot. They think that the city lives only in those who lived there and that Facis saved a part of them so the city and country are saved. Their declarations are giving the islands of Fray hope while they battle the invaders of the main island with Prince Fenton at their head."

Of course news of Fray would be here, the island being so close to those of that country. But this wasn't what he came to find.

"But I have heard all I wish of Fray. Is there nothing else of interest?"

"What are you after?"

He was a perceptive drinker then. Perhaps Gary was losing his touch.

"Have you heard anything of the adventures of Berk? I love hearing about them."

"I might have."

Without another thought Gary ordered him up another drink.

"You might have?"

"They say he went off into the unknown. He left the map's borders a week or so ago. The last ship to see him was a frigate out in deep waters. They hailed one another but did not stop for chitchat. He's after the Ruby of Death."

"Yes, I know. In which direction did he head?"

"That I don't know. Ask that fellar over there. His name is Chuck. He was on the frigate and has a lightening memory. He will recall the heading. Tell him Thom sent you."

"Thank you."

The man waved him off, turning to his beer.

Gary walked over to Chuck. He introduced himself and asked if he knew _Safire's_ heading.

"Who wants to know?" he asked suspiciously.

"I'm looking for a friend who was enlisted. Thom sent me over to talk to you."

"Humph."

Gary rolled his eyes and ordered him a beer. His money pouch would be severely lightened by the end of the night. Chuck eventually told him the heading and a great deal of useless information about some of the people who worked on _Safire_. Gary thanked him and ordered a room for the night.

* * *

Astyr chewed his lip worriedly. He scrubbed the deck mindlessly with a long handled brush, not realizing he had been scrubbing the same place for a few minutes now. Why had he left? His original reason had been to get out of Harry's way. Fate had showed up and it didn't look like pining after the young hero would help him much. But was that really it? Was it a matter of wounded pride?

Astyr didn't think so. He wasn't really a prideful person. He wanted to prove himself. Did he have to leave his friends and family? Yes. Or more specifically, he had to leave that place. He needed to become something different. It was politically wise to disappear. He wouldn't create rivalry over the favor a mage and he wouldn't contest being the heir with Fenton.

But more personally, he was playing a well-known roll in Haven. He was putting on his mask just like he did in his father's courts. Haven threatened to permanently affix that mask on his face. He'd been worried about Harry thinking he was unworthy on the Dinghy. He'd been worried because he knew that something all powerful would be able to see through his mask. He wasn't a prince on the inside. He wasn't blue blooded. He could never be something so cold and unfeeling. He had grown up on the streets as a child, in the palace as a prince, in the library as a mage, in the training room as a warrior, and in the forests as a magical creature. Somehow, he knew he didn't belong in any of those places. So why had he left what could potentially be his mate? Someone who he could love?

Certainly it was partly because he didn't have much of a chance with the man, but also because they hadn't been doing it right. They were not starting anything correctly.

Astyr's brow furrowed in annoyance at that train of thought. How did that work? Well, Harry was sure that all Astyr would ever see was Facis. But Astyr was sure that all Harry would see was someone seeing Facis. Astyr needed to leave. He wasn't Harry's lapdog, though he had joked about it while drunk. He was himself, and no one could stop him from living his life. No one could keep him from himself and his aspirations. That is why he left. Because he wasn't the sycophant that Harry thought he was. He wasn't going to let a mask take over him.

"Ry! For the love of a mermaid, clean somewhere else!"

Astyr blushed as he noticed he had been cleaning in front of the hatch where men were trying to get out of for the last 5 minutes.

"Sorry Ray. I'm distracted."

"How can you be distracted, little man? There aren't any women here to fight with you."

Astyr smiled. It was true; Berk avoided hiring women because he felt they were an added complication. He would sail with either an all women crew or an all men crew but eschewed coed bunking.

"I am just contemplating my life, friend. Don't worry."

"Alright. Supper is soon. You'd best clean up a bit."

Astyr nodded, trying not to pursue his twisted emotions, and lowered a bucket over the side in order to wash away the suds.

* * *

It was with a great deal of trepidation that Astyr approached his bed that night. He wanted nothing more than to run to Harry and apologize, beg for his forgiveness, make love to him, and perhaps stay in the dream world forever. At the same time, he recognized that he could not do that and stay true to himself and his morals.

He rolled onto his side and stared at the wall, unsure if he wanted to sleep or not. He felt wide-awake and couldn't keep his eyes closed. An hour later, the rocking of the ship and the sounds of the water against the hull relaxed him into sleep.

He was on a bed. It was strange that he wasn't in an otherworldly place or a memory. The bed was black and featureless and the rest of the room was cast in shadows.

It must be Harry's room or a bed Harry has slept in. I just have to wait until he comes to explain it, he thought.

Astyr looked towards the end of the bed and jumped as Harry's face defined itself in the gloom. He stepped forward, features impassive and unreadable.

"Harry…"

Harry didn't reply. Instead he stalked closer, his clothing a deep black that caused him to blend in with the surroundings even more. Astyr sat up in confusion. His eyebrows shot up as Harry's knee levered onto the bed, his eyes never losing contact with Astyr's face. Astyr scooted away a little, wary of him. He only walked on his knees closer and closer.

"Harry…What are you…?"

Harry stopped just when his knees were touching Astyr's. He reached a hand forward and delicately, almost too slow to believe, he seemed to caress Astyr's cheek and neck though he never once touched his skin. Astyr's breath caught in his throat and he froze, unwilling to move lest it dissolve. Harry's hand sneaked back behind him to cup his neck. He applied the smallest pressure, willing the boy forward. Hesitantly, Astyr complied. He leaned in, unable to comprehend what was happening.

A part of him was saying "No. No, this isn't right." But his body seemed to have a will of its own. Trembling lips met confident ones and the softness of them surprised him. Harry's lips were like nothing else he had ever felt. They were so soft, so incredibly smooth and fragile that he was afraid they might blow away or be pushed away. He moved the kiss, pleasure shooting through him at the sensation. He felt the cloth over defined muscle as his hand had crept up to his chest on its own.

Astyr brought his chin down slightly, breaking the kiss before lifting again and pressing harder. He parted his lips slightly, wanting to taste, to nip, and to love. Harry responded wantonly, opening his own lips and letting out an almost whispered moan, which ignited a greater passion in Astyr. The kiss became more intense and Harry turned his head, moving around and giving more energy. Astyr snaked his tongue into the other's mouth, licking at his palate before wrapping wetly around Harry's own tongue. It twisted beneath him and they locked, lips and bodies moving and undulating in pleasure. Harry's hands groped up under Astyr's shirt, pinching at the flesh below his pects. He trailed his fingers up each rib and bunch his shirt around his collar.

Astyr's hands moved from Harry's neck and waist to above his head. They broke away, tongues slipping apart before clashing together again as the cloth was lifted and discarded. Harry moved, kissing a path away from his mouth. Soft petals brushed down Astyr's neck, followed by a lurching bite in just the right place that caused his hips to buck and for him to let out a ragged breath. He could feel Harry's smile against his flesh as he slowly kissed down to his clavicle, kissing and then sucking at the protrusion gently.

Astyr's hands steadied at Harry's naked waist as he worked downward again, his shirt somehow having been disposed of. His neck craned back as new waves of pleasure hit him. Harry's torso moved with a wave of tightening muscles as he arched down to lick around Astyr's nipple. He smiled around it and finally bit at it harshly, ripping a cry from Astyr's throat. Nails dug into Harry's waist but he only quirked his lips as he gently loosened his grip on Astyr's nipple. He darted his tongue out to lick around the flesh. He sucked it into his mouth a few times, created an irresistible rhythm. Astyr's breathing came faster and faster.

Two lone fingers swirled their way down to Astyr's pants fiddling to the skin along the rim. The fingers swiped below, running around the pant line before returning to the button and beginning to unfasten it. Their two bodies rocked around as neither could stop from moving. They grabbed at each other, hands desperately clawing at backs and legs, pulling closer and closer. Harry's two fingers slowly drew the strings on Astyr's pants, loosening them around the waste. His mouth went up again to catch Astyr's in a heated and intense battle. Astyr latched onto him, arm wrapping around his head to keep him where he was. His nipple seemed cold and arousing as the air began to dry it. His hips bucked again and his legs wrapped around Harry's waist. Harry growled lustily and lost all pretense of seduction, pawing at Astyr's pants to get them off. Their heads drew away as Harry's hand snuck inside, traveling deeper.

Green met Hazel and both widened as a finger brushed…

His eyes snapped open.

He sat up slowly, breath gasping in his chest. He looked around for the nearest porthole and determined it was still very late at night or early in the morning. Around him, his shipmates twitched and breathed heavily, deep in slumber. Astyr let himself fall, his head hitting the pillow.

That was not real. Astyr could feel the difference, now that he was awake. The dream lacked clarity. It wasn't one of their meetings but instead a fantasy Astyr had dreamed up all on his own. He grimaced as he waited for himself to calm down. If it hadn't been real, where was the dream world? Where was the place they met every night? Could it be over? Could the fight have destroyed their connection and canceled the dreaming? Would Astyr ever see Harry again?

He curled up unhappily, unwilling to fall back asleep. Somehow, he knew only 'dream' Harry awaited him and that was not the Harry that Astyr wanted.

* * *

Gary sighed as he looked out at the endless expanse of sea before him. Things were not looking up. He didn't even know if Astyr had been accepted as a member of Berk's crew. All reports portrayed him as a harsh and unforgiving man. Now he was sailing out into the wide blue yonder without any idea of where he was going or if he was even following his quarry. On top of that, he had learned of some bad tidings. A small ship had set out to follow them shortly after their departure from Valor. It seemed that Astyr had a stalker. Somehow, Gary knew whoever it was didn't want to get into his pants. Rather, they wanted him dead. Very dead.

* * *

A/N May some heavenly power bless you or something because you have gotten this far in my story without going back to whatever C2 you are checking out.

Please review.

Ps, I'm getting sick of Gary but he cant go away. Dilemma.

A/N between you and me, I am a big fan of HD but unfortunately for all of us, here they aren't into each other. (In case you were wondering)


	13. Chapter 13

A/N between you and me, I am a big fan of HD but unfortunately for all of us, here they aren't into each other

Chapter 13

Gary had commissioned an equally small ship to follow after the first two. Small boats, while not good for open waters and offshore winds, would be advantageously fast. If a storm were to approach however, he and his crew were doomed to die. Not that the loss of the crew was any great thing. They seemed to be drawn from the bottom of the barrel. It was hard to imagine that these men were actually considered part of the human species. They ranged from tall, skeletal thin and gangly to short, fat, and obnoxious. One man looked so much like a mouse that he could be mistaken for one if not for the size of him. He seemed to twitch his nose back and forth, which did not help the illusion.

Gary was a little nervous about the Island De Mort. It seemed like it would be dangerous. It did have man-eating goblins after all. Another story said they were goats though, so maybe he didn't have much to worry about.

"Captain! We are approaching uncharted waters, Sir!" cried out an over enthusiastic little boy.

He seemed to jump around a squeal a lot, despite his age of fifteen winters.

"Good." Gary responded, unperturbed.

He sighed and leaned forward against the wood, looking out over waves to the sea beyond once more. It may have been his imagination, but he could have sworn the horizon was beginning to darken with ominous clouds.

* * *

"Morning…" Draco grumbled throatily, pushing himself off of Harry's chest and groggily feeling around on the ground.

"Huh?" Harry asked intellectually, blinking at the blonde.

Then he seemed to register their positions.

He gave a lopsided grin and said, "Draaaco…"

"Yes Harry?" he asked irritably.

"Why are you on top of me?"

"Probably because I passed out trying to haul your ass to a bedroom."

"Are you sure you weren't cuddling up to me and praising my pillow-like skills?"

Draco leveled him a dirty look. "Yes."

"Really? I could have sworn you were confessing your love for me and all things shiny."

"Honestly Potter, why don't you keep your sick little fantasies to yourself and help me find my sock?"

"You lost a sock?"

"Yea. Just one. Why would I take off only one sock?" Draco said, his voice muffled and coming from under the bed.

Harry blinked again and began looking around for it.

"Remind me never to drink again." Draco proclaimed as he lifted a flowerpot and searched the table beneath it.

"I will not. With whom will I ever drink if you're not there?"

"Marcus." Came the prompt reply.

"Are you kidding? He can't hold a single drop of wine. He is completely useless. He was conked out by nine! I bet he is still sleeping, too."

Harry squinted at a clock reading noon before lifting it up and checking the wall for stray socks. He knew that socks don't normally end up under clocks but he wouldn't put anything past himself when he was drunk. While he seemed only to do things that he wanted to do while under the influence, he couldn't truthfully say that he had never wanted to hide a sock behind a clock.

"Yea…" Draco continued his search as Harry gave up and made his way to the kitchen in Draco's apartment to make them breakfast and willow bark tea.

"Hey, you want milk in your tea?" Harry called.

"Who puts milk in tea?"

"I do."

"Well that's dandy. NO."

"Ponce."

* * *

Sometime later, Harry and Draco sat at the kitchen table, lazily speaking of this and that as the day went on.

"So what are you going to do now, wonder boy? Who are you going to save?"

"Hah. You crack me up, you really do." Harry said without enthusiasm.

Draco smirked, "Sarcasm does not become you."

"I don't know. Maybe I'll settle down at Hogwarts and teach. I don't know…"

"What, no new worlds or exciting adventures? No dead dark lords?"

"You know how I feel about that Draco." Harry ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "Those things happen to me. Like a curse. I can't stop it. I try and try but I guess all I was ever cut out to be was somebody's hero. That sounds so conceited doesn't it? Who wouldn't want to play hero? I am such an idiot. I'm all backwards. All I've ever wanted was obscurity...The grass is always greener I suppose."

"What's changed? I knew all this. You've known all of this. What's different?"

"I've never wanted it so badly before." Harry fidgeted and said, "I need Fate."

"Well he isn't here. I am. Deal with it."

There was a moment of silence.

"Come on Harry. I can help. I have an endless supply of tissues, a personality that screams comic relief, and an ear that might listen if you aren't terribly boring. I am a jack-of-all-trades. Tell me."

"The guy…Astyr…"

"The one you fell in love with over the course of a few days?"

Harry blushed but nodded. "Not just a few days. He…he is a prince from one of the countries of that world. I met him during a siege on his city. He was amazing…such determination and fire…"

"Sounds like a bloody Weasley."

Harry continued without noticing the slight, "We talked and laughed…and grew close. But then he found out that I was…am…"

"A superhero." Draco supplied.

"And he changed his view of me. My name stood between us. We talked it over but I don't know if it helped as much as I thought it did. He left the next day. He didn't say a word. He just put a little figure of his animagus form on my bedside table and he left. I flew into a frenzy. I know I was acting stupid but at the time it wasn't just a friend that was leaving me. I felt betrayed, like I had entrusted my entire life and sanity in the hands of this one man and he ran off to cash it in. I thought that the world might leave me like that, stranded because they think I am a fucking legend. I thought that he stole my humanity. Isn't that stupid? I was so stupid."

"You aren't stupid, Harry. Why did you think he had you by the throat?"

Draco fingered his mug as he listened.

"Don't apply your Slytherin bullshit to this. It wasn't a threat or a matter of power. It was more like…he was the first person I could bestow my emotions on. I mean, I loved him, cared for him, trusted him. Like my feelings were something I gave for him to protect. But he hurt me. It wasn't intentional of course. There wasn't any commitment there."

"And now?"

"I dream with him. But the last time we fought. I don't even remember why."

"Sexual tension."

"Excuse me?"

"You need each other. Its adorable really."

"You sound like Hermione. How does fighting equate with need?"

"Well you don't have each other. You were blowing off steam because life sucks and hasn't worked out like you wanted it to." Draco explained patiently, being uncharacteristically understanding.

Harry stared at him. "And why do I feel so bloody guilty?"

Draco smiled sadly, "Because you blame yourself for his disappearance. You blame yourself for trusting him, for him leaving you, for all of your inadequacies and ineptitudes. Despite being an all around celebrity, you have the self-esteem of a horseradish. Not even a normal radish. You lashed out at him because you were pissed at yourself."

Harry groaned. "When did my life become so dramatic?"

"When your parents died and you didn't. We should definitely create a muggle soap opera of your life. With all the twists and betrayals, its bound to sell millions. People becoming friends with enemies, powerful antagonists, people having babies and dying leaving them to abusive relatives, innocent people breaking out of prison, lots of hospitals, best friends betraying people, best friends dying, best friends fights. Its all there."

"You forgot people dying and randomly coming back to life."

"I can't remember that happening. Everyone I know that's dead has stayed dead."

Harry grimaced and then sighed.

"What do I do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"Him." Came the immediate response.

"Than get him."

"He left to get away from me."

"Really? Did he say that?"

He hesitated, "He didn't answer my question."

"So you don't know why he left. It might not have anything to do with you. Just ask him. Nicely. Butter him up a bit with declarations of undying love and ultimatums and then sweep in for the kill."

"But what if it's because I am Facis? I just want to scream at him 'I'm human! I'm human!' over and over until he notices me."

"So scream. Honestly Potter, if he doesn't love you for yourself then he is unlovable."

"You can't control who you love."

"No, but you can control which loves you agonize over."

Many minutes passed in silent brooding until Harry asked, "And what about you Malfoy? What are you going to do now?"

"I must return to France tomorrow morning. The Dark Invasion doesn't like to wait."

"It sounds like you have your own dark lords to kill."

"I wish it were that simple. You've heard the reports. It's absolute chaos. I know that I told Hermione that we had an organized front to battle them with but to be frank; it was a politically biased comment. We are running around hopelessly like the ministry during the second war."

Harry grimaced.

"Why is it so messy? Aren't you controlling it? Moving and manipulating it?"

"That's just it, Harry. I am but it isn't doing any good. You know me; my father raised me. I spent the majority of my life learning how to do this from him, Voldemort, and even Dumbledore. I was trained to do this. But there isn't a figurehead in this war. The dark lords are really just a bunch of unsavory men running around, coordinating attacks, and trying to raise demons and inferi. The dark creatures are just following the dark tide. Its like the country itself is being corrupted. How do you fight chaos? It is the corruption of order. More order will just spawn more chaos."

"I don't know." Harry said quietly.

He was more of a tactics guy and was less inclined towards strategy.

"I just wish I could stop them. Its all I can do to keep alive."

"There has to be some good people that can rally together. The victims…"

"Are all children. The victims are all innocents. Innocents don't fight. They just stand in front of cars and get hit."

Draco's tone was turning steadily more bitter.

"But there is a power they hold. They are hopeful. They can be strong if you give them reason enough."

Harry was trying to be optimistic.

"I'm not an icon, not enough of one to do any good. I don't get plastered all over the prophet as the Boy Who Wouldn't Bloody Die Already."

"Just Witch Weekly as sexiest man." Harry pointed out, gesturing to the magazine on the table with Draco's smirking form plastered all over it.

"Oh yes. We should just hand the safety of the world over to the models. Everyone loves the heroic poses."

"But you aren't a model. You have a brain. They will follow you. You just need to give them a cause."

"Harry…I need YOU."

The statement was final. There wasn't any doubt that he would get him. Harry could never refuse.

Harry didn't even bother answering. He just lazily drank down the rest of his fourth cup of tea and began reconciling himself with the idea of helping Draco out. He would have to pack his black war gear. And his fuzzy blue socks. He would be going to France in the morning.

* * *

"Shit, Harry! Pay attention!"

Astyr looked up startled and registered his mistake, letting out an annoyed breath as he attempted to correct it. He had let the sail too far out and it would end up flapping uselessly if he didn't tighten it. Unfortunately, it was a lot easier to let it out than pull it in. He applied his thickly callused hands to the rope and nodded to Dirk. Bracing himself, he leaned his entire weight on the rope, pulling it smartly and holding it at the right tension as he secured it again.

They had been adjusting the sails all morning. It seemed that the fogs around the island were understandably devoid of wind and they wanted to get a good running start as they approached the dead area. He could see the dark smudging clearly and he knew that they would arrive at the cloud in a matter of hours and at the island in a matter of days. It was reported that the fog did not stretch too far from the shore but it would take awhile for them to get through without any wind. The ship was not equipped for oars and as such, would have to be pulled by the dinghies.

Astyr was nervous. He could feel the tension in the air and he could sense the impending events of the future. The libra in him wanted to run while he still could. It didn't help that he had been worrying himself all day because he might never see Harry again. It was just a stupid fight, he told himself. Why would it all stop? Why would the dreams stop?

Astyr spent lunch wondering if Harry had died and then the beginnings of the afternoon wondering if all connections between worlds were cut off suddenly. He had already gone through the reasons Harry would stop the dreams himself and possible ways to end them. His crewmates had not been happy with him.

"….body knows. Some say it isn't thick at all. Some…the…suffo…the breath leaves…die."

"I have faith in the captain."

"As do I but still…You have to wonder."

Astyr looked in the direction of the voices. No matter who was on duty fixing and making nets, it was an unspoken agreement that this was the time to tell tales and myths. Often these myths involved personal accounts and it made the tedious work one of the most envied jobs. It sounded like the Island de Mort was about as legendary as they come. Astyr vaguely wished for a normal island on which there might be grasses and bunnies and perhaps a cloud or two. He had the strangest feeling that he wouldn't be sailing home.

* * *

Captain Berk frowned as the ship drew closer to the stagnant fogs. It was 50 feet away and the distance was closing slowly. The wind had calmed to nothing as they neared the solid wall of grey. His men were well versed in adventure and looked on the fog with wariness but not fear. There was something nefarious about the substance that left little room to doubt that it would be something dangerous and foreboding.

The water was flat and reflected everything as it would a mirror. Astyr had the feeling that they were floating into the edge of the world. He shivered as he felt the fog coming closer. There was something strange about it. Something wasn't right.

The boat slowly slipped into the grey matter, the bow being eaten and his crew disappearing from view. As the tip of the rudder finally made it into the fog, Berk let out his lungs and breathed in the new surroundings. It was rather like normal fog but a little heavier and strangely swirling. It must have been fine though, because he could breathe well enough despite the humidity.

"Everyone alright?" he shouted.

"Aye." Came the whispered and quiet voices of the men. They didn't seem to be enjoying this.

The fog flickered around his face, tickling and exploring.

"Captain…"

Berk turned to see a dazed look on Astyr's face. He seemed to sway slightly as though he didn't know where he was or what was happening. He didn't seem aware of anything at all, his focus directed inward. His skin had paled to a sickly white and the shadows under his eyes were thrown into stark relief. His hair was standing slightly on end and it looked as though a breeze were stirring it though none was felt.

"Harry! Are you alright? What's wrong?"

"The fog…get out of it. It's…not good."

"What do you mean?"

"It's... It doesn't like us…get out."

Berk thought and finally made a decision. He walked speedily down the deck.

"Jimmy! Carl! Get over the side in the boats and tow us out. We need to get out of here now!"

They complied immediately, lowering the boats with the help of the crew. The only sound in the abyss was the splash of the boat as it hit the water. The sails didn't even flap nor did the ropes creek. Astyr started rocking. He curled his arms around himself and tightly held on, his eyes shooting wildly towards the sides of the boats and out into the distance.

"Too late. Too late." He chanted.

"Shit."

Berk's curse indicated to the crew how worried their captain was. They looked around in renewed terror.

Around them, the fog's swirling began to press in. They could barely see the sides of the ship as it curled around everyone and everything. The fog seemed to be a sentient thing as the depths of it began to take on shades. The grey turned lighter in places and much darker in others. It began moving faster, angrier, and deadlier. The men nervously shied away from the changes.

Fading into their hearing came a whistling. Most of the men likened it to the whistle of the wind but it puzzled them because the wind remained flat despite the fog's sentient swirling. Astyr knew better.

"Close your eyes now…."

His voice drifted across the ship. It was calm and almost lazy, giving it a creepy aspect. Everyone obeyed.

The water remained calm. Astyr's heavy breathing could be heard just over the whistling. It was coming in gasps as though he were being suffocated. And then it hit. The whistling evolved to a sexless screaming that roared in at them from the bow. It swept everyone off their feet, causing some to whimper fearfully. Unaccompanied by any other sound or even wind, the screaming alone brought them to their knees as they prayed to half forgotten gods. Their whispers added to the feeling of death that infected their minds.

Astyr alone allowed his eyes to remain open. He knew what was coming. He couldn't stop it. He saw the fog as it swirled much more malignantly. He watched as purple and black shapes swirled with it. He felt the claws and fangs of the rotting creatures as they swept past him and through his companions. Each one caused the men to arch their backs, feeling the monsters as they passed.

One man opened his eyes as one of these spirits shot through him. He looked around and screamed along with the spirits as they darted through the others. He stood up and backed away from the scene before him, unable to accept the disgustingness of the things that flew with the fog. His head darted right and left as he registered them all around him. He panicked as one came close to him, grinning horribly into his face with its dagger like teeth in its over extended jaw. The man's hands came up to his face, protecting himself and attempting to swat the spirit away. He backed away again and, with a sickening scream that approached the spirits' in its awfulness, Clancy toppled over the side as he reached the edge of the deck. Each man on board shuddered, as they didn't hear him hit the water.

Astyr raised a hand as one came close. He lifted his fingers as if to touch its face. It came at him and put its eyes on level with his. Vaguely he recognized that it was female and its skin, while smoky, was dirty and darkened. Its body was decrepit and ragged. It, like the others, was completely naked. Instead of being alluring however, it served to frighten and disgust. Bones jutted out of its body at strange angles with only skin holding it together.

Astyr could see the darkness was partially due to bluish bruising like those you would see on a corpse. Its hair was replaced with swirling blackness like dark flames that blended into the dark fog. The black flame-like tendrils of smoke encompassed its body completely. Its eyes were black and depthless. It hissed at him and he heard in his mind a woman's voice drifting into him. The voice was evil and hateful. It both pleaded and threatened as the creature screamed full on into his face.

_Help me…. you bastard. You sick and disgusting creatures. I'll kill you. I'll tear you up. I'll destroy you. I'll destroy him! Harry…he will die by my hand and you…you will watch and cower. I will suck the life out of those eyes…those beautiful green eyes. I will rape your mind and leave you a husk of pain and disease…Please, help me._

Astyr gasped as his mind was invaded by the sick presence of the creature. It warped around his thoughts and drew out his most dreaded moments. It screamed horribly both in his ears and in his mind. He fell to his knees, not noticing when his screams had joined its or when the crews' screams joined his. He saw the planks of the deck fanning out from where he had fallen. He saw bodies as they thrashed on the ground, his shipmates. He saw the screaming spirits laughing and he saw the glinting off of their horrible pointed teeth. He could not help his thought as he looked up that the spirit was truly beautiful despite the viciousness.

It was his last conscious feeling as he slipped into darkness and obscurity.

The ship drifted deeper into the cloud.

* * *

He was close. He could feel the man that was his target. The arrow had connected them. It had tied their souls. One of them would die. It wouldn't be him. The fog loomed on the horizon. Soon. Soon. He would have him soon.

And when he did…he would kill him.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Harry eagerly closed his eyes and settled down in his bed. As always, the darkness closed in and suddenly lightened into a bright white featureless plain. Harry impatiently watched as color began seeping into the scene, giving it life and texture. Darkness swept the sky as stones and fires popped up across the land. Beneath him, Harry saw the ground recede as a stonewall formed at his feet. Behind him, a stone keep sprouted up and flags faded into view.

Harry recognized the place as the battlements of the palace at Fray. He looked out over the city and watched as buildings burned and the harbor filled with boats. The view was made all the more eerie by the complete lack of life in the city or buildings. Harry realized that, due to the mostly complete state of the walls and the heavily blockaded gates, that this was during the siege on the city perhaps a day or two before Harry and his men had arrived. A staff lay propped against the battlements before him, its top gem gleaming fiercely. Harry gasped as he saw a huddled form next to the staff, almost invisible within the shadows. The figure shivered and twitched, huddling as though the light from the fires would burn just like the flames.

"Astyr…?" Harry asked uncertainly, seeing the gleaming hair and general face shape. They were the only people that ever appeared in their shared dreams. It had to be Astyr.

Harry approached the figure and made out a determined mumbling. It almost sounded as if the man was casting spells but nothing was working. He growled and jerked every once in awhile, glaring angrily and unseeing into the stones.

"Shit!" Harry swore worriedly and grabbed the other's shoulders, noticing the sickly look the other had acquired.

He received a shock and almost dropped him at the feeling of putrid dark magic oozing from his skin. Harry noticed now why he had been so hard to see in the shadows. Astyr's skin was darkened and scratched at. The blood coming from the wounds seemed unnaturally dark in the shadows and his eyes did not glint with life. Instead, they were a glazed dark blue, constantly searching and never settling on one thing.

Harry's own widened eyes sought Astyr's and they locked. Then Astyr screamed. He screamed horribly like he was being tortured or killed, but not breaking eye contact even for a second. His scream blasted into Harry and Astyr's voice drifted into Harry's mind.

_Help me Harry! Why wont you help me! KILL ME! Let me bleed on the flagstones and burn my eyes! I will die in your arms, Harry! I will die like Cedric died, I will die like Sirius, Like Lorrie! I will die like everyone you have ever killed and let die! It's the only way you can save me, Harry! Kill me!_

Harry gasped at the invasion as the darkness began trying to infect his soul. His pupils dilated and his breathing quickened as the black stole over him. But Harry was not an accomplished occlumens for nothing. He threw the tendrils of blackness out and focused his eyes clearly on Astyr's. The scream ended in a pathetic way that broke Harry's heart.

Something was possessing Astyr. Something was taking over his mind.

"It isn't you Astyr! That thing is not a part of you. I am going to get it out."

Receiving no response, Harry drew himself out, bracing for impact, and never questioning his actions. He plunged into Astyr's mind. He surprisingly encountered some very powerful occlumency shields. It seemed Astyr was well equipped in the magic department. Harry searched the walls and was disappointed to find no cracks. The dark creature inside of him had not entered in the same way. It had spread like a disease into the soul. Harry was attempting to enter via the mind.

He readied himself and charged his energies. He had to get past the shields. If Astyr had been functional, he would be able to sense the charging of Harry's power and would charge his shields accordingly. Normally Harry, as wonderful a Legilimens as he was, would not be able to gain access. This time, however, Astyr was in no position to protect his mind from forceful invasion.

Harry flung his power at the shields, crumbling them before shooting into the expanse beyond. The Dark tendrils floated within the space around Him as he went farther into the other's mind and away from the opening in the shields. The feeling of the darkness almost had him gagging but he refused to allow it to deter him. He wouldn't be able to dislodge the nasty spirit that was claiming Astyr's body without reaching the man's conscious mind. Harry traveled further, losing himself in the blackened landscape. It was an almost barren place full of hate and disgust. Whispers of memories crept out of the shadows, twisting and pulling at him, trying to hurt him and destroy him. This wasn't Astyr, Harry thought. He had to find the conscious and separate being that was Astyr so that he could show him how to throw the creature out.

Harry felt the flash around him and cursed as the attention of the creature was focused on him. He could feel as it turned to regard him, like a snake rearing back to strike.

_You hope for nothing but pain. I will die soon. Kill me! Put me out of my misery! Please….Please Harry…Kill me._

Harry felt the words cut into him as Astyr's voice pleaded with him. He grimaced and shot an occlumency barrier out in a sphere away from himself so that the creature could not approach him, buying him a little bit of time. In doing so, he heard the whoosh of someone's breath as the power passed through him, ignoring him for the bigger threat. Harry turned and saw a very physical manifestation of Astyr. This was it, his last resistance against the creature. The figure was decked out in full battle attire and he held a staff menacingly. A sword hung from his belt and unknown runes drifted languidly across his person, glowing eerily in the darkened landscape. He wore knee high boots that were strapped with knives and braced with long bones. His black shirt was what Harry would call a poet's shirt and his hair lazily drifted in the same manner as his runes. A necklace with a single rune floated as though trying to join its counterparts.

"You are not she." He stated calmly, speaking in way that Harry recognized as the calm of a good soldier.

"No Sparkle, I'm not."

"You shouldn't be here. She will take you, too."

"I am going to help you get rid of her." Harry said, approaching him and reaching out slightly with one arm.

"What do you know of shades, Harry Potter?" His voice was skeptical.

"I…know nothing. But I know mind magic. I can throw her out of you. You just need to let me in." Harry began to beg.

"In?"

"I need to have control of this place."

"My mind? You want to possess me." He accused Harry angrily, afraid of the idea.

"Yes…" Harry was desperate. "Please! You will die slowly if I don't help. She has you, Astyr! She has you and you are almost turned! You are almost a shade yourself!"

"How do I know that you wont take me, and abuse me? How do I know you wont take me and use me, and leave without…"

"Because! Because I wouldn't ever do that to you! How could I? You need help, Astyr. You can't die like she says you will! I wont let you!"

"You are very predictable, Harry. You come, you go, and you leave behind chaos. I do not want my mind to rot in the place you leave behind." Astyr sneered, his anger hiding self-doubt.

"All that will be left behind is you. If that is rotted, then you have only yourself to blame."

"Yes. Yes I suppose I do."

Harry began worry. He could feel the shade pressing in on them and that last statement was frightening. What exactly were they talking about? He warily backed up a bit.

Astyr changed the subject, throwing Harry for a loop.

"What happened last night?"

"What? What do you mean what happened last night?"

"What happened?"

"I…I got wasted with Draco and Marcus. It's…It's tradition. Why?"

"I thought that the dreams were over. Are the dreams over Harry?"

"No. No, I don't want them to end. We are in one right now."

"You don't hate me, despise me?"

"I… Where is this coming from? Sparkle, I am so sorry. I am sorry that I made you think I didn't care about you. Merlin! I'd be devastated if I couldn't see you! I didn't mean anything I said before. I was lashing out. I was taking my own inability to…." Harry stopped before the statement came out.

I was taking my own inability to make you fall in love with me out on you. I was mad at myself because I couldn't believe that any feelings you had for me would be true and not due to my titles or legends. I was mad because I couldn't fix it and I couldn't let myself live the lie of loving you as you worship me.

Astyr noticed the slip. Determined to end it, Astyr reached out, and quicker than Harry could react, he laid his finger to Harry's temple. He encountered the powerful resistance that held Harry's mind. It was unlike anything Astyr had ever seen. It was impossible to penetrate.

Astyr turned and addressed the visage of Harry.

"I need to know. I am going to die, Harry. I am going to die but I would rather die than let another dark soul invade my mind. I will submit to this shade if it means that I do not have to take the chance that you hate me and that you can't stand me. Show me that I can let you in. Show me that you know me, and trust me. Trust begets trust. I will die otherwise."

Horrified at the words that echoed those of the shade, Harry's walls fell before Astyr. He moved forward…and was engulfed in sensation.

Harry's mind was a maelstrom of color and compassion. Astyr was guided to the thoughts that Harry had of him, to the deepest layers of his mind that held the strongest emotions. Astyr allowed himself to be a part of the experience…and became overwhelmed.

He felt Harry's fear. Harry feared loving Astyr, feared Astyr's love for him, and feared for Astyr's death. He felt his love and understanding for Astyr's personality and his trials. He felt the fascination Harry held for him. He felt the frustration and misery that came from being held on a pedestal and he felt the gratitude towards his friends for being there with him. He felt the betrayal of Astyr's change in attitude when he found out about Harry being Facis. He felt the loss of losing Astyr, of someone Harry had cared for, still cared for. Someone that Harry loved.

Astyr let himself be immersed in Harry's feelings. He allowed himself to bask in the warmth and he felt his own fears melt away. Harry loved him. His Shag was there and didn't want to leave, and didn't want anyone else. He wasn't a God or a super powerful being that could never regard Astyr lovingly. He was Harry.

As Astyr left his own mind to inhabit Harry's, the shade stirred and became more powerful within him. Harry felt it and reacted.

"Astyr, please!"

Harry grabbed for Astyr's mind and found no resistance. He harnessed Astyr's depleting powers and allowed himself to fill Astyr's thoughts. He thrust out, dispelling the darkness and destroying the shade in the process. He twisted his mind in such a way that he regained control of the parts that the shade had taken. He had a very powerful mind and he used it to the utmost extent. The shade began screaming and shrilly whistling, clawing at toeholds. Its words were lost on Harry who focused his superior occlumency on strengthening Astyr's shields and overpowering the shade, forcing it to shrivel and die.

In the dreamscape, the two figures on the battlements of the castle groaned and opened their eyes. From one, an infinite darkness was slowly fading and from the other, a light was retreating as control was regained. For a moment, the two looked up from their positions lying slumped on the ground and locked eyes once more. Each saw himself before their own magics drew them back to their proper bodies.

Each got up carefully, still looking in the other's direction.

"So you saw? You know how to destroy a shade?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Both looked slightly awkward and lost. Harry broke away and looked at the ground, putting his hand up to his neck subconsciously. He scuffed his foot on the ground, rolling a broken arrow that lay there.

"So…"

He mentally applauded his foolishness but was cut off suddenly as Astyr stepped forward and kissed him hard.

Astyr grabbed him around his waste and arm and pushed his lips upon Harry's almost desperately. Harry's arms stiffened and became useless as the sensation of the kiss washed over him. Astyr's lips were softer than anything he had ever felt. They were neither wet nor dry and the friction between them made him nearly lose himself. They broke away for a moment only for Harry to regain use of his motor functions and pull the other closer to begin anew. Harry allowed his lips to part and Astyr followed his example, letting their tongues venture and lock with one another. Harry felt as though he were spinning and that gravity was momentarily suspended.

* * *

Astyr had only one thing in mind when he pressed in to kiss the man of his dreams. He wanted to keep Harry forever and to make love to him until the end of time. He closed his eyes and thrust his body against the other as his lips nearly crashed into Harry's. He nearly moaned as the initial shock on Harry's part gave way to a response that turned the kiss into something more heavenly. Astyr moved slightly against the other's body and simply _felt _as his emotions got the better of him. Breathing forgotten, he moved his lips with Harry's chastely loving everything about him. Breaking for a moment Harry put his arms around Astyr possessively and clung as they plunged in for more. As Harry opened his mouth, Astyr parted his own swollen lips and tickled around Harry's lips with his tongue. He leaned in even more as their tongues twisted perfectly around one another, enhancing the feeling. Slowly they withdrew, still kissing but pacing themselves and letting themselves acknowledge their surroundings.

Coming back to earth, the men parted and smiled giddily at each other. But smiles turned abruptly to dismay as the sky began to melt upon them, raining pigment and eroding the keep and walls.

Harry's grip on Astyr tightened. "Sparkle…" he whispered mournfully.

Astyr heard and his sadness faded in resignation and happiness. He smiled sweetly to Harry who returned it only to be looking at his clock in his lonely room, completely devoid of Frayan gods.

* * *

A/N I know this chapter is really short but it just seemed like the perfect place to stop, don't you think?

Please review before going on.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

Today was going to be awful. Today, Draco was going to drag him off to France. Of all places, why did he have to go to France? There was a war going on. There were dark creatures. There were more opportunities to add pages to the scribbling of myth writing monks...and Rita.

"Harry! Get your ass out of bed!"

"nngg.."

"Don't make me come in there! We are due at a meeting in 20 minutes!"

"Jeez Dray, you sound like my aunt Petunia."

From the other room a screech was heard expressing extreme horror, scaring the neighbor's cat, and originating from either a horrified woman or the very high pitched voice of a very gay man. Harry laughed and fumbled with his blanket. Last night had been amazing. He couldn't think about anything else as his mind overwhelmed him with remembered sensory details.

Draco rolled his eyes as he entered the room to find the precious boy-who-lived hadn't even deigned to move from his bed. He had the most peculiar expression on his face. The emotions playing across it were complex but overall the tiny smile seemed to tell the most about his friend's state.

"What's got you swinging on stars?" Draco asked, not entirely impressed.

"Hmm…? Swinging on stars? That's…accurate. Oh Dray, I had the craziest dream."

"Oh? Another late night rendezvous with that Frayan prince?"

"Yes. Dray, I am completely head over heals in love."

Draco paused and looked at his friend. It was good that he had finally found someone but the entire situation worried him. Harry was not very close to many people because they tended to die right when he started loving them. That was how Draco had slipped in under the radar. Harry allowed himself to be amused by the blond brat because he thought for sure that any type of love between them was impossible. It just goes to show how people can change. Now Draco didn't have a doubt that Harry would contemplate something as stupid as suicide should he die in battle. Harry was foolishly dramatic when it came to that sort of thing. Draco blamed it on a fucked up childhood but couldn't deny that the idea of someone caring about him beyond death was appealing.

The possibility that a prince from another world with an assassin chasing after him would die was far more likely than with anyone else Harry could have picked. The world that Fray was situated on was known for its dangers both in the faunal and the warring departments. There were too many countries with too many opposing people for the fighting to stop all together. Those countries were also of the tradition that royalty deserved front row center when it came to these vicious battles. And of course assassins generally aim to kill. The possibility of the young prince living to see Harry again was close to none. Princes almost never lived to be kings. Regents were the lucky caretakers of the throne.

"Ok. That's nice. LET's GO!"

"What's got your panties in a twist?"

"Well let's see. Today is the biggest campaign move that the war has had to date. We are meeting with all of the leaders and generals of the Dark Opposing Nations. We have FIFTEEN BLOODY MINUTES!"

Harry rolled his eyes but snapped back to reality and began readying himself for the day. He refused to wear anything "befitting his status" but instead grabbed a pair of jeans and a black tee. He made his way to the kitchen and made coffee, grabbing the mug and the portkey in just enough time to take a sip as his naval was yanked up and away (to France of all places).

* * *

Draco smirked as he took in Harry's choice of dress across the entrance hall. The man refused to be anyone's bitch and that refreshed Draco's opinion of things. He felt like dying in his own military outfit and had to admire Harry for his laid back approach. Had Draco tried that, the gathered dignitaries would be affronted. Because Harry was altogether a completely different entity with the very well known capacity for the mysterious, the officials could only be very afraid and respectful of his choices.

The fact that he just didn't want to wear anything so disgustingly uptight would never dawn in their minds.

Draco glanced up at the doors through which they would walk. The gathering was called with war strategies and alliances in mind. As a guest of honor and a surprise VIP, Harry would be the last to enter with his supporter (Draco) just in front. On the other side of those doors, the men that were gathering were no doubt wondering where their General was.

Draco quickly crossed the hall and started fussing with his hair in the mirror. It was critical that he make as wonderful an impression as Harry. They would be striking in their dissimilarity and Draco would be labeled as proper, powerful, and intelligent while Harry would be seen as the ultimate weapon that Draco had brought in. Draco would be overlooked if he were anything less than immaculate.

Harry saw him peering into the mirror and rolled his eyes. Draco seemed positive that the look of a man was the most important impression one could make. He thought that the world would bow to the most beautiful and that people judged everything based on the clothing that they wore. Draco couldn't ever wear anything casual to one of these meetings because he could not see anyone being respected if they showed up dirty and unshaved. In a certain sense, Draco was entirely right. But what Harry thought he failed to notice was that clothing is not indicative of power. Sometimes looking your worst can give you the advantage. Sometimes your inner power comes out no matter what you're wearing.

Sipping his coffee, Harry looked up and around at the large entrance hall. To say it was a hall was inaccurate as it was in fact a circular space. It's sole purpose was to hold incoming magical transports. The circle on the floor was artfully designed but carefully configured so that no magic could take place in any of its perceived runes. The worst thing that might happen in such an area is the incoming party would be somehow horribly disfigured due to an accidental rune invocation. Runes were a tricky subject that Harry knew enough about to understand the potential problems. Simple symbols could be deadly no matter whose hands they fell into. A muggle could draw a rune and all it would need were some access to a magic conduit. Entire city blocks have been decimated due to the carelessness of wizards throwing around their magic in front of muggle 'designs'.

The double doors into the meeting room appeared ominous. Based on the deep colors and the arch of the doors, Harry decided they were in some type of large castle, mansion, or manor. He could vaguely hear the rumblings of disgruntled world leaders. The whole process tended to disgust him. Most of it would probably be political movement despite the raging war outside the doorstep. Poor Remy was probably still at that pathetic between worlds conference.

Harry turned and asked as the thought came to him "Will 'Mione be at this meeting?"

"…Yea…" Draco said, distracted by a hair that would not lie perfectly.

"Well why didn't we hitch a ride with her?"

"We did. Technically. The portkey was ministry issue. But she can't really be seen with us. Minister and all."

"Why?"

Here Draco finally turned and looked at him, "Don't you know anything about politics?"

"Not really. I've been a little too uninterested to try."

"You are a sad case. One, If you were seen with me, my dupe would be up. No one knows that you're coming to this. When we walk in there, they'll all think I went and retrieved you from whatever rock you've been saving. It's impressive. Plus we will immediately be sleeping together in the eyes of the media. Two, If you are seen with the minister, 'Mione will be swarmed. The great bloody Facis is seen on the same portkey as the first female Minister EVER. She'll be in your bed with her stalkings over your head within the hour. Third, If I'm seen with the minister, it could be seen as favoritism because I am a British wizard. Technically I am supposed to be serving the DON, not Britain. It looks even worse because I am already friends with her. If we are seen together, she will end up in MY bed."

"And, just curious now, what would happen if we were all seen together? Hypothetically?"

Draco leveled him a dark look.

Harry laughed and said, "Orgy! Ok. So what about the day I arrived? We were all together then."

"It was well reported. I was there on official business. The fact that you came on the scene means nothing seeing as you hadn't been seen for a while. You sorta just pop up wherever something interesting happens. An official conference between the Minister of Magic and the DON general is interesting enough to merit a world savior. And if you recall, the leaky cauldron was secured and determined camera and reporter free before we walked in."

"You're just full of answers today."

Draco grimaced, "I hope it lasts. It's easier to shoot down an uneducated fool than all of the United European political masterminds."

Before anymore could be said, the clock began to strike and Draco hurried Harry over to the door.

"Enter on the 9th stroke. Ill enter on the 8th."

"Such drama."

"Hush!"

Draco opened the doors wide and strode strongly into the room, transforming into his general persona that seemed to reflect Draco's inner maturity.

Harry ambled into the room, sipping his coffee and looking interestedly in all directions. His hair fell into his eyes and his posture was confident and relaxed. He rested on his heels, counting the buttons on a German man's robes. Because his arrival was unanticipated, Harry did not have a seat at the large table. This didn't bother him in the slightest, preferring to stand. He waved off the house elf that nearly tripped over itself trying to find a chair.

Draco's face was suspiciously devoid of a superior smirk. Instead it seemed chiseled in stone and completely expressionless. Harry was nearly worried for him but saw the tell tale nervous clench of his fingers. Harry obviously was the big show and Draco needed Harry to act perfectly. Harry was unsure of what Draco expected but knew that, because he was given no previous instruction, he should act as typical as possible. It would be interesting.

"General," One fat French man addressed Draco after a moment of silence, "What do you wish to prove with bringing this…this disrespectful miscreant into this gathering?"

The man turned his nose at Harry's appearance.

Draco looked at the man incredulously, momentarily forgetting his position as he regarded the idiot that spoke of Harry.

Harry was unable to help himself. He cracked up and laughed.

"Oh wow. I haven't gotten that in a while."

Mirthfully, he toasted the French man and sipped his coffee once more, chuckling to himself. His longer hair must make it harder to recognize him. The scar wasn't on display as it usually was.

Draco's face gained rosy spots. This was not exactly how he had envisioned Harry's appearance.

The remaining dignitaries looked on in either disgust or confusion. Some looked closely at Harry and then began to look a little horrified.

Hermione, sitting in a corner, shoved her hand up to her mouth while her eyes crinkled happily in Harry's direction. She knew him much too well. She resolved not to say a word.

Draco looked at Harry with a pleading 'help me out' but Harry either didn't notice or chose to ignore him.

The French man, unchallenged for his remark, spoke out boldly.

"Not just any man can come in here and listen to the doings of the greatest body of nations in the world! And at the very least your man could have the decency to dress in a manner appropriate and befitting of the occasion! Look at him! He drinks from a mug as though this were his kitchen table and we his humble slaves!"

"Now, now, slavery is forbidden in all countries under Don." Harry said quietly, not caring if he was heard or not.

The man grew angry glaring over at Harry before turning back to Draco,

"I demand that you remove your friend at once. This is not teatime, Mr. Malfoy. This gathering will be treated with the respect it deserves."

Some people were nodding while others were too shocked to correct him. One young blonde looked entirely amused. Harry noted that she was on this man's team of politicians.

"I would appreciate it if you would address me directly." Harry said without the mildness of the previous comment but with the same volume.

"Truthfully, I don't give a damn about what you would appreciate. Leave this room with your identity and name still in tact."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Now that would be a feat. To damage my reputation…how impossible. I think that might be something that I simply am unable to do. I've tried and tried. I denounced the ministry, left the country, left the world, and killed hundreds of men, yet still the people love me. I even went gay. They just keep coming back for more."

Draco put his head in his hands.

"No, I think that is a very unlikely thing. Now your reputation…yes, yours could be completely shot with just one conversation. What disgusting odds. I really hate politics. Coffee?"

"You could fuck a goat." Came the unbidden comment from Draco's hidden head.

"They just don't appeal to me." Harry replied with regretful earnesty.

A man towards the back of the room snorted.

"How dare you! How dare you _threaten_ me! I'll have you know, I am the Prime Minister of Sorcery for the French magical community!"

"—PMS of the FMC huh?" Harry murmured.

The French PMS continued without pause, "Just who the hell are you?"

"Finally, a decent question! The name's Harry," he said, putting out his hand.

"Potter." Draco said quickly, trying to placate, "Harry Potter."

In the uproar that followed, Harry shot a pout in Draco's direction.

"Harry Potter! Impossible!"

"Facis! My Lord!"

"Prove it!"

Harry smiled and said, "Ok. Ok. Settle down now. You'd think the bloody circus was in town."

Ignoring the ignorance of the pureblood wizards who were confused by the comment, Harry took a sip from his coffee and continued.

"It really shouldn't take a name to command the respect of a room full of the best and brightest of the world's adult population. It shouldn't require brass buttons or silk clothes. High backed chairs do not win wars and endless hours of squabbling about nothing do not create alliances or help people. What are you all trying to prove? That you're better than me? That France is better than Britain? 'Mione, is France better than Britain?"

"Pick your battles, Harry. You aren't going to get these guys to sit around in bean bag chairs and make like they're friends."

Harry smiled wryly and turned back to the gathered men.

"You're right. We should start talking about what is really important. The Europeans citizens are our top priority. And quite frankly, you've been doing a shitty job of things. You refuse to listen to your general."

Harry pointed out the wincing form of Draco Malfoy.

"When he says he needs more supplies, he means exactly this; Your citizens are dying because you can't spare the money to pay for their lives." His tone became cold. "If every one of your soldiers were worth a pence, you wouldn't give 100 pounds to save a thousand. To you its money. To General Malfoy, it's 1000 men that have died in the fight against the dark. The creatures are here. They cannot be stopped by ordinary means. When these creatures are tearing your limbs apart, feel free to think about the costs of buying silver objects, burning ropes, devil's snare, and muggle guns. Until that happens, listen to the people that really know. Another thing; Why the hell are you refusing to send your own fighters out? Why are your military men suddenly unfit to serve? Why are you letting them stew while you watch foreign soldiers die? Yes I am talking to you Germany. France. Spain. Can you condone withholding the cavalry until all of the original fighters are dead? Are you really so selfish, so sick that you would do that to people?"

"Harry…" Draco said weakly. He had never told Harry any of this. Where was he getting his information?

"No Draco. You are taking a whole lot of political shit from a whole lot of political shitheads. 'Mione, I love you to death, but get your ass in on this war. Give them medals at the end of it, but send those aurors into this one. If the taint is allowed to spread, even Great Britain isn't safe. And fuck, Belgium. If you can afford to send 600 men as an honor guard to a military meeting in France, you can chip in a little more than you have. And why has the DON refused to consider outside help?"

"Outside help?" asked the French woman with interest, ignoring the scowl on her superior's face. "Outside of Europe?"

"That is a possibility but unlikely. No, outside of humanity. Creatures know creatures. Almost always there is a balance. Centaurs will always jump to fight minotaurs. Unicorns will drive off pegasi, veela will kill sirens, and good werewolves will kill bad ones. Nymphs and vampires, dragons and drakes. Hell even flobberworms have good counterparts. What may come as even more of a shock is the idea of asking the muggles."

"Muggles! But they…"

"Are inept? Why? They don't need magic. They function perfectly fine without it. In fact, they are more advanced in some ways than we are."

"What? How?"

"They have invented weapons that can destroy entire cities with one push of a button. They can detect earthquakes and volcano eruptions. They can predict the weather. They can make instant coffee."

"Those things are impossible!"

"No really, just add water."

"Do you really think that muggles are necessary?" asked one awed young man.

"No. I think that you can spend thousands of galleons, send all of your militia into battle, ally yourself with the good creatures, and make it out of this war alive. It's stupid, but you could do it. You have access to one of the most advanced life forms on the planet. Why aren't you trying to use it?"

"They may have some pretty toys but they slave over the making of a simple light. How can you expect them to contribute to a magical war?"

"Oh, for the love of—" Hermione spoke out unintentionally.

She looked around and saw the attention of the room was on her.

She drew a breath and began, "Muggles don't even have to speak out loud in order to make a light. They flip a switch, press a button, light a match. Take your pick. Not only can muggles make light, they can do it in more efficient, faster, and more varied ways than any witch or wizard. They can even see without any light at all if they want to. You are truly ignorant if you think they are still stuck in the dark ages. Wizards may still use quills to write and fire to light torches but muggles don't. They haven't exactly been sitting on their asses for all of this time."

"How do they make a light without fire?"

"You need to get out more." Harry informed the man over the rim of his mug.

"To tell you the truth, when the wizarding world came out into the open about its existence, the muggle governments weren't very impressed." Hermione continued, "They could do everything you can do. They were affronted by the muggle bans in certain magical communities. They have even declared some areas 'magic free' in retaliation. The necessity of both zones is an obvious issue of ignorance. But if we aren't careful, the muggles could become a serious threat to the wizarding world. The average muggle doesn't know about magic, but it's the big guy in the government that holds the gun." Looking at the faces of the men around her she amended, "Sword."

"Better be friends early on, right Dray?"

"Harry…" Came Draco's annoyed warning.

"Assuming we ally ourselves with the muggles, what will we tell people when they demand to know why we are consorting with them? How will we convince them that it is necessary? How will we get past their prejudices?"

"Leave that to me." Harry said grimly, frightening the woman that had asked the question.

"How do we approach muggles with this?"

"A party of course."

"You propose to get them drunk?"

Harry adopted a patient smile.

"A political party. A party of people who will schedule a meeting with the muggle leaders."

Draco nodded and picked up where Harry had left off, "We send a fair representative selection of the wizarding society. Preferably wizards who can speak English or French, and for every pure blood, three muggleborns." Draco overrode the angry exclamations, "We can't trust people who have no idea what muggles think, do, act, or feel. Comments about muggle capabilities made in ignorance could offend them. I would not trust myself to speak with a muggle politician. Similarly, I would not trust anyone else of my blood purity or education."

"There should be at least 10 Belgian representatives on this expedition." The Belgium Rep. piped up.

Harry grimaced as he went to sip his coffee and found his mug empty. It would be a long day.

* * *

Astyr grimaced as the boat swam into focus. It was surprisingly quiet with only a few twitches giving any sign of the deadly shades, a fake life moving the tired muscles of slumbering sailors. Astyr began to form a plan of attack as he observed the very soul of one crewmember begin to dislodge itself entirely from his body.

Quickly, he fell back on what he knew best to help his comrades: runes.

Astyr drew a primitive circle around himself in order to better focus his energies. It generally wasn't necessary but he wasn't about to skimp where there was no need for show. He drew Gotma, The protector and a variation of Vera, The painted sword, or as he liked to call his creation: sharp pointy object. Astyr drew connections and immersed his mind in the works, bringing the magic to the soul plane, the plane of dreams. He warped the intention of the runes, twisting them as a sponge and hooking them to the first sailor that he could find.

Astyr snapped his eyes up and spoke the rune of release quietly to himself.

The bolt of power that slammed out of him was far more intense than Astyr had anticipated. He was thrown back even as the shade, tearing at a young man's soul, was literally blasted away, smoldering with the mental power behind the attack.

Catching on, the other shades made to raise their bodies, fearful of the attack. Astyr's lungs deflated as he hit the helm and his vision swam with need for oxygen.

Like a fish out of water, he could only watch as the crew raised themselves, viciously drawing knives or splintering the wood of the ship to create weapons. Astyr's fingers flailed as he grasped for any way to save himself. His hands encountered nothing and the shades drew in, quickly going for a stab or pouncing at him from above.

* * *

"Shit." Gary swore, looking out over the waves to the towering clouds of grey.

"That don't look like any storm I ever did see, sir." said his young shadow, earnestly wringing his hands in worry over what was obviously concerning his dear captain.

"Nor I."

Gary spoke without thought, falling into the older style of speech that was so typical of this world's upper class. Its seemed that the only way you could gain respect from these urchins was to rub in their face how much better you are than them.

The horizon was darkened peculiarly with the strangest of still standing fogs. All reports said that no boat had returned from the unknown waters and this fog seemed a likely perpetrator. Gary was wary of entering but knew that he had to. Facis may have been distraught or emotional when he ordered that Gary find the Prince of Fray but that didn't make the order any less serious or worthy. Truthfully, Gary wanted to find the boy that had so stimulated his weary general. He wanted to find his friend and he wanted him to be safe. So instead of turning around as he had every right to do, he ordered sharply to his men to stay the course. He was nearly mutinied but his skills with his sword and one less crewmember shut up the naysayers.

* * *

He entered the fog without any hesitation or concern. It was not a question of fear or pride. He had to find his quarry before it escaped him. He grinned tightly into the unseen distance, knowing without knowing how that it was close, so close. His boat maintained itself, keeping it's forward motion despite the lack of wind or the tears in the sails. His dying sailors had caused those shreds as they fell from their perches. They hadn't wanted to enter the fog. They hadn't wanted him to captain them any longer. Now their reanimated bodies worked the lines as the magic of their deaths propelled the ship. Necromancy was handy in its energies. You always got a bonus for every man you kill. And oh how sweet, the killing.

* * *

A/N Some people think that the assassin is Gary. I don't really know why. Let's review everything we know about the assassin. One, he shot an arrow at Astyr and tied their souls together a week after they safely fled from Fray's downfall. Two, the assassin is impossible to find by some of the most skilled soldiers from all of the worlds Harry has visited, begging the question of magic. Three, the assassin left Port Valor a few days after the Safire did in a fairly rinky dinky boat (and you would know that if you were paying attention to _Gary_'s information getting skills). Four, the assassin is catching up to Astyr because he just entered the fog (where the Safire is) and he killed off his own crew so that he could travel quickly through the fog (the Safire isn't going anywhere right now). Questions?


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

IMPORTANT NOTE: For those who have been reading this and just got two little 'new chapter' messages in their inboxes, there are some things you should know. First off, this chapter is the same as the last one you read. So you can skip over it and press 'next' and get on with the real new chapter. When I went back and fixed some things, I added a chapter. If you're interested in that bit, it is Chapter 5. Basically, it's an extra day on the Dinghy before they get to Haven. Nothing too big happens and there isn't anything that contributes toward the storyline. So if you don't read it, it wont come back and bite you later. Also, chapter 4 has an extra scene where Astyr cries a little about losing his home. It doesn't affect the plot so don't worry about that either

IF you really want to read all of the changes I made, you can start from the beginning. I added a few conversations but nothing really funny or important.

Enjoy.

Ok. So I know its been a while. How are you? I guess I went from posting every day to posting once a year. That's some serious regresssion. I suppose I could list my excuses. So I will. Lots of work to do. I had to apply to colleges. I lost a chapter. I got sick of Gary. But mostly, I reread what I had written and absolutely hated it. I just hate the beginning of this story. It gets better towards the end but really, I hate it. If I were reading it, I would have stopped first paragraph. I don't recommend going back and reading it though because you might hate it as much as I do. So Im going to redo it. Don't worry, nothing will really change, just the quality. And Ron will be dead. And snape and sirius prolly wont be a couple. Do you know how many things Ive contradicted from one paragraph to the next? Anyway, im going to change it.

Just a recap, Harry is a man of myth. He travels dimensions and helps people out. Everyone everywhere knows who he is and he cant get away from it. He saves a prince in one of the worlds and falls madly in love. Duty calls him to another world and then home. The Prince starts a quest. They share dreams together and have only just acknowledged how attracted they are to each other. Astyr is being attacked by shades. Harry is advising DON about the dark war in europe.

* * *

The shades surrounding him in his friends' bodies began to tighten their circle. He was doomed. He waited a moment as the tension came to a breaking point. And suddenly it did, as all of the shades began to attack. There was a roar of rage as the nearest shade jumped in to pounce on Astyr. His arm went up to deflect the creature but there was no need as the thing was grabbed and thrown across the ship. In front of him stood his savior, the sailor he himself had saved.

"Alright there, lad?"

"Yea—"

"If you can shoot 'em down, I can keep 'em off you. But better be quick about it." He said as he prevented the other shades from approaching Astyr.

He kicked and punched at his companions, always nearly letting one through.

Astyr nodded quickly and knelt on the deck where he had been thrown. He ignored the sharp panting and grunts of his comrade as he quickly drew invisible lines of power in front of him. He drew 6 points leading out in a semi-circle with circular bands connecting them. Then he drew 3 runes beneath the semicircle, each a symbol for power and destruction. He had been afraid of learning these runes when he was younger but now he could not be more thankful for his persistence in learning everything that runes could teach him. He drew three more, specifying the thought plane and giving dimension to the bolts of power he was creating.

"Ry! Quick, boy!"

"There!" He responded, drawing a release and shielding his eyes as 6 bolts sped towards 6 different crewmembers.

The men that were hit arched their backs, screaming as each shade was torn away from their tattered souls. Each man staggered and clutched at themselves, order and balance off kilter.

"Um…" Astyr panicked, looking around him as the remaining shades flew into a fury.

"Shoot 'em lad!"

Astyr swore under his breath as he drew more runes into the deck of the ship. This was not the best nor the most accurate application of rune magic. It wasn't meant to be used with such numbers or with such an obvious goal. Runes were for deception, enchantments, strengths, and weaknesses. They did not handle offensive magic very well.

The freed sailors began helping the first, thrusting the shade sailors away from the crouched prince.

"Omry!" Astyr yelled, drawing the last line and releasing it as he did so.

The spoken command was not necessary but he was not in the mood for subtlty. Six more bolts of power met six more sailors but Astyr could see that there were too many sailors to continue this approach. And the shades that were ripped away from bodies were hardly incapacitated

He was not exclusively a Rune Mage. He knew enchantments and spells as most other magic users did. Unfortunately, he was not as talented as Harry when it came to casting offensively without a focus. His staff had been destroyed in the fall of Fray and without it, he couldn't hope to attempt more active magic than Runes.

He could use charms and break through wards without a focus but to use a specific spell, bring it onto a spiritual plane, and direct it at all of the remaining shades was a bit too much. He couldn't resort to his animagus form or fighting because dispelling the shades required more than just claws and punches. It required magic that could enter into the minds of the sailors. His makeshift powerbolts relied heavily on singular Mentes Runes that penetrate the brain and move the casting onto the thought plane.

He had made that particular Rune up himself when he was younger. He was seeking ways to improve his mental faculties so that he could learn and react faster than humanly possible. He had learned a few very important lessons about messing with one's own psyche and, to the relief of his parents and siblings, had given it up as a bad job. He had never done enough research or experimentation to give the Rune plurality. He couldn't target every mind on the ship.

"Ry! Wha--" the first sailor was struggling helplessly with a possessed comrade. Astyr had to do something.

He looked around, eyes wide. How could he get beyond this? How could he expel the shades quick enough to save his men?

Fumbling, Astyr wiped the used Runes from the deck, creating a clean slate. Kneeling in front of the helm, which dripped with a bit of his blood from where he had slammed against it, he began sweeping his hand across the planks. He had never invented something with such a short time limit before but pressure could bring out some briliant results sometimes. Other times he would die gorily at the hands of his bunkmates.

"Harry!" screamed a fellow crewmember.

"Help!" came another.

Astyr knelt and drew circles and lines, making odd shapes and hoping his angle approximations were correct. He drew the runes for containment and expansion. He exagerated the plane and area marks and added contraction and spirit wards. Without checking his work or stopping to think, he dropped a finger to the ground in front of him and pivoted on his feet, drawing a perfectly practiced circle through the matrix he had woven, sealing the purpose and execution runes.

Surrounded by the dark of the fog, the misty trails of the shades, and desperation of the ship, Astyr looked up as he completed his Rune circle. From him, a white ward shot out in a dome, illuminating the faces of friends. Where the ward passed through a sailor, a shade was torn free and pushed away by the whiteness. As the entire ship was engulfed, every sailor breathed gasping breaths as their minds were forcibly cleansed. The dome reached a peak on the tip of the mast and twisted. It turned inside out and circled the ship, changing shape and herding the shades off to the far left. It converged on the damned as they shrieked and clawed away from it. It surrounded them, trapped them, and contracted inward rapidly, becoming a white sphere. The sphere seemed to scream a thousand screams as it darted first left, then right, and finally sped off into the fog. The screams faded with distance and the ship was left with awed, frightened, and shocking silence.

"Ry…What…"

"I didn't expect that to happen." Astyr answered numbly. "I guess I went a little too literal with all the 'moving' 'enprisonment' and 'forever' stuff"

He gestured at the ground uncertainly. He was still kneeling as he glanced up, unsure of what to expect. Most of the men didn't really seem to know what to do either. One was looking at him with fierce eyes.

"You." He said, pointing shakily at Astyr.

Astyr said nothing. He didn't know if the accusation was out of anger or shock. Something told him to wait it out, to see which of his secrets was about to be revealed.

Suddenly Berk made his presence known. All around him, men straightened and looked on with interest in how their captain would address the situation. He walked in front of the sailor (Jeff) and Astyr, stopping and then looking at both in turn before settling on Astyr's face. All of his secrets then, Astyr thought.

"Now I recognize you." He said. "Your face is on Frayan coins. Your achievements are lauded in all circles. You said that you were sought by the crown. You did not say that you were the crown."

Astyr sighed heavily. He hated that his lie had been discovered. He loved not being himself. It was spectacular. He hated that he had lost the trust of men he called friends.

"So?" he finally asked, feeling resigned and slightly rebelious. "What will you do, Captain? Will you hang me? Will you ransom me to my headless kingdom? Will you worship me and call me Prince? Will you demand my services, tie me up, hate me, love me? What?"

Berk's face was unreadable. He obviously had never had to deal with this before. Just as he began to reply, Ray spoke up from the crowd.

"He saved our lives."

"Indeed." Berk said, "I do not hold my life in such light regard that I would compromise it by betraying my savior. And I am not much for flattery so you will have to make do without epithets and titles. Otherwise, I have nothing to say. Except, perhaps, thank you for my life and my crew."

With that, hands clasped behind his back, Berk dismissed the young man kneeling on his deck and turned away, barking out orders and cataloguing injuries.

Astyr knew well enough that he wasn't out of the dog house yet. He looked nervously at the sailors around him who were not immediately occupied with Berk's orders.

"I aint never met royalty afore." One said, giving him an interested look.

It seemed to calm everyone else as they adjusted to the new dynamic.

"Yur Prince Astyr, nay?"

"Yea."

"Youre a bloody legend you know. Kept your whole kingdom topside, didn't ya."

"I am not a hero. I am a man and….a sailor."

"Youre on the council. Me aunt told me."

Astyr stood and finally let out a frustrated sigh. He had never been in this situation. He found it eerily similar to Harry's dilemma and felt he could finally relate to the attention eschewing myth.

"My shit stinks." He finally said.

It was part of a phrase he'd heard from Gary while staying in Haven.

The men laughed.

"Aye!" they said, and dropped it.

Ray approached the prince, meeting his eyes before clapping him on the shoulder.

"Astyr, is it?"

"Yea."

Ray glanced to the bow before saying "The main needs to be let out." And walking away.

Astyr grinned and ran forward, calling out to Berk.

"Captain! What's our heading?"

"Why, to the isle of course. I didn't just get mind-raped for nothing you know."

Astyr nodded and grabbed his line.

* * *

"How are you going to placate the wizarding world?" Draco asked quietly.

His double-breasted coat was unbuttoned and hanging off of him and his robes were slipping down his shoulders. He looked weary and strained. He had taken some initiative after Harry's tongue lashing and had laid out his needs as far as his forces were concerned to the DON as a whole. Unlike approaching individual countries, addressing them all had the bonus of letting them fight out amongst themselves about who would supply what. It had been a long day and Draco anticipated a very long week to follow that long day.

Harry didn't look at Draco as he answered. He only stared into the fireplace and slouched in his chair.

"I will forsake them."

"Finally losing it, Potter?"

"I will forsake them, criticize them, bring them to their knees with the shame of their prejudice. I will put muggles in their midst and demand they take a closer look. I will use all of my fame to bring them to acceptance. I will awe them. I will shock them. I will guilt them into asking for help."

"Seems a little underhanded."

"It's bloody necessary is what it is."

"Yea."

Harry frowned and rubbed his scar, looking troubled.

"Headache?" Draco asked unsympathetically.

"No. Yes. Well it was self-induced."

Draco waited. He was too tired to tell Harry how stupid that sounded.

Taking the hint, Harry said, "Occlumency. Legilimency."

"Who did you invade?"

"Astyr."

"Wow. And here I thought you loved him. Did he piss you off so much that you had to violate him?"

Draco waited for the real answer. He knew Harry would never do that to anyone though he was curious about what justified such an intrusion.

"He was being possessed. There was some kind of spirit, meant as a guardian. A necromancer sacrificed a woman and himself in order to achieve that result. He obviously wanted the victims to suffer eternally. It was nasty."

"Shit. I've seen something like that. It was contagious. Anyone who got it turned into his attacker. No one could throw it off."

Draco was shocked. Necromancy was the most forbidding of the dark arts. His father had even refused to touch it.

"Is he alright?"

Harry looked up to Draco before returning his gaze to the fire.

"He should be, unless he landed himself in more danger. I was actually pretty worried about him all day."

"Could have fooled me." Draco muttered.

"Did fool you. I expelled the 'shade' but I don't know where he is or what he's doing that would get him into that much trouble. I can only hope that he's fine. I will confirm it tonight."

Draco could only nod.

* * *

Gary looked uneasily into the slimy grayness that surrounded his boat. He had been woefully unprepared when the wind had died. He had shouted out in shock and then looked around at his crew as though they were to blame for the lost progress. They were all shaking in fear and didn't acknowledge his disapproval.

Gary quietly began to order them to start preparing the oars. He had been surprised when he saw the speedy little ship was equipped with oars. It was a strange modification on a classic ship design. Now he was only too glad as he imagined a hell of drifting in this fog forever.

His boy-shadow froze next to him, looking into the distance. There was nothing to see but something had arrested him anyway.

"What? What is it lad?" Gary asked, still speaking quietly to suit his surroundings.

"Cant you hear that?"

Gary listened and was surprised enough to hear a whistling. He looked vainly into the darkness as though his searching would enhance his hearing.

Slowly, the crew began to notice the noise and each stopped in the task of unshipping the oars. Each man looked around and stared at one another in dread. Some began to pray.

Gary squinted as he looked into the fog. He had thought he saw something. A wisp of movement, a reflection of light.

And suddenly the noise was getting louder, stronger, faster, and more terrifying. The whistling evolved into a screaming chorus. The sound was of many men and women screaming in hate and terror and hunger.

It swept towards them faster than the men could react. It reached into their eyes and left afterimages that blinded them.

Gary tracked it with his eyes, surprised as the bright ball of light screamed its way down the length of the ship. He thought he could even see limbs flailing inside the sphere as it swerved across the stern and retreated back into the fog, it's screams fading with distance.

Shrugging, Gary turned to his sailors. It hadn't hurt them and everyone was fine. He had a Prince to catch and strangely tortured balls of light did not fit into the equation.

"The oars." He demanded as the men recollected themselves.

Mutely, they obeyed.

* * *

Everyone's legs fell from beneath them as the ship shuddered. Astyr grabbed at the mast and prevented himself from falling but he was one of the few that did.

He quickly made his way to the gunwale and rested a hand on the railing, looking down. He frowned when he saw nothing but water. He looked in all directions and finally spotted the darker patches in the fog that indicated land. It happened to be off the starboard stern. How they had managed to run aground backwards would remain a mystery.

Berk grinned at him before addressing the men in the dinghies.

"Pull em up lads. We'll take a landing crew."

Hauling on the lines, they drew the little boats up so that they could be loaded with eager crewmen. Astyr, by unspoken agreement with Berk, took a place next to the captain among the group that would be exploring the Island de Mort.

"Alright, all men in, all clear. Lower em boys."

Slowly, the little boats descended to the blackened waters. Once they hit, everyone grabbed an oar and began the long journey to the beach. As they went, the fog lightened and Astyr felt the illusions fading and with it, a certain sense of security. At least with the fog they didn't have to see the dangers that awaited them. Now, strangely, Astyr didn't want to expose his doom.

They hit the beach and began to unload, dragging the boat farther up so that they wouldn't lose it. Surprisingly, where the water glided up the sand, the fog ended and eddied in imitation of the water itself.

Before them, dark green trees sprouted at the beach's border and beyond their canopy, a large peak could be seen. The sky was murky as though it were perpetually overcast. It seemed as though the light came from nowhere at all.

One sailor grabbed the signaling lantern and began the code to confirm landing to the _Safire_.

Berk gestured in front of him and said to them, "Welcome men, to the Island of Death."

That was when the shit hit the fan.

* * *

The assassin smiled as he witnessed the little men dragging their little boat ashore. How pitiful these creatures were. He raised his arms above his head and, laughing, he drew symbols in the air.

"Come to me!" he cried in a language that chilled the soul. His voice was almost sexless and had an eerie quality.

"Come to me my love! My Queen! Lend me strength that I might strike down thine enemies! Lend me flame that I might burn their hopes and leave them to descend into the blackened waste at the bottom of the sea!"

As he spoke, the dark fog which obscured him from the eyes of the Safire's crew swirled and began to take on new highlights of red and orange. From the very air, the assassin pulled the most deadly of flames. He thrust a hand toward the ship before him and yelled triumphantly as the entire thing burst into flames.

He turned his attention to the shore as the men on the ship screamed and fell overboard, flaming balls of fading life. Even as the landing crew ran around like a disturbed anthill, the mighty ship desintigrated and collapsed into a charred pile sitting on the ground 4 feet beneath the surface of the water.

* * *

Astyr could only feel shock and numbness as he witnessed the ship he had come to love and the men he had come to care for be destroyed in such a short time. It only took a moment to lose everything, he thought, a single second, from one moment to the next, to turn a victory into a terrifying nightmare.

Berk, standing next to him, gasped in pain as his ship sunk without him. He stared in horror and indecision as his very world crashed around him.

"Come on!" Jeff screamed, grabbing at them and running towards the trees.

Astyr stumbled as he was pulled over and righted himself to look back to Berk. Berk turned his head to look at Astyr, opened his mouth to say "She's gone--" and burst into a flaming pillar.

Astyr screamed as he witnessed Berk's death, unable to comprehend what danger he was in, so intent was he at following the movement of his captain's limbs as he flailed and vainly wind milled in pain, unable to stop his own demise.

"Ry!" Ray yelled, running to him.

He grabbed his arm and dragged him into the trees. Astyr turned and ran with him, flanked by frightened sailors. As they ran, a man here and there would explode and the others would shy away, still running for their lives.

* * *

The assassin smiled as he witnessed the deaths. Slowly, he commanded the water to hold him, and walked to the shore.

One by one, he looked to the men he had killed. He could only be happy that none were his target. While he wanted to kill the boy, he also wanted to chase him a bit first.

And here, there was a perfect hunting ground. It was an island after all, and the Prince had little hope for escape.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N quick recap: Harry is really famous and he travels to other worlds sometimes. He goes to a universe where he saves the life of a handsome prince. Prince goes on a quest, Harry goes to his home world. Both dream every night with each other. Prince Astyr gets in some trouble and is currently running for his life from an assassin on an island. Harry is helping Draco out in France.

Chapter 17

This chapter is dedicated to ROKKIS, the perfect reviewer.

* * *

Astyr ran as hard and as fast as he could. He barely dodged trees and recklessly thundered over rocks and through the brush. On either side, he heard the crashes and panicked breathing of two others, occasionally startling him into a renewed frenzy. He didn't know how much time had passed or how far they had run before he called for a stop. He slowed in his pace, chest heaving.

"Stop…just…. stop." He called out, panting and wheezing.

Around him, his shipmates slowed and made their way to him. Collapsing at his feet. Astyr himself leaned on his knees and rubbed fretfully at his chest as it twinged and pulled. One of the men threw up to the right of him. Astyr resolved not to look that way lest he follow.

"We…we should keep moving."

Astyr looked to the man who said this, squinting through his sweat. It was Jeff, lying flat on his back and not making a move to get up.

"Well," Astyr said, still leaned over. "Go on then." He gestured forward before returning to his original position.

Jeff just shook his head.

"What was that?" Ray asked, finally done vomiting. He wiped shakily at his mouth and looked around the clearing warily.

Astyr looked at him and gently lowered himself into a sitting position, saying nothing.

"We…we have to find the captain." Jeff's voice came from the ground.

"He's dead." Astyr informed him.

Jeff's breath began speeding up again and he started quaking slightly.

"Just calm down. Calm down." Ray soothed.

Astyr straightened and began looking for landmarks. All around him were thick trees. The space they were in didn't really constitute as a clearing and there was no way to indicate direction, as the light that hit the island was supernatural. He tried to find the mountain or determine which direction they had run from but there was really no telling.

"What now? What do we do?" Jeff despaired, rolling to his side and scrunching his face.

"Come on. Get up. We need to find out where we are." The prince tried not to be harsh about it.

"Why? What does it even matter? We're on the Island of Death! It's trying to kill us!"

"Don't be an idiot. Islands don't kill people." Ray piped up.

"Oh yea? Then what was that? You tell me that, what killed everyone!"

"A magician did that. A long time ago, a wizard cursed the island to make the fog, then a necromancer made sacrifices to make the spirits in the fog, and now there is a bloodthirsty magician that has called down the darkest of magics on our ship and our comrades. We need to run. We need to get as far away from him as we possibly can and we need to stay away. He will hunt us and he will kill us and there will be no mercy. We need to find out where we are so we don't walk right back into his arms."

As Astyr laid it out, Jeff became steadily paler. He'd sat up to hear the explanation and now looked like he wished he hadn't. Ray's expression became severe and unresponsive. Astyr looked around.

"I'm going to find out where we are."

With that, he walked into the trees and soon disappeared from view.

* * *

"I found the mountain."

Astyr's voice startled the two men and they flinched away, pawing at their sides for knives. Their eyes widened and their limbs twitched with the urge to flee.

Astyr ignored their reactions and pointed.

"The base is only a few hours that way under the cover of trees the whole way. I think it's our best chance."

"Chance at what? This is an island. We can't go anywhere. There's nowhere to go."

Ray replied in a thoughtful tone, "If we get above the line of trees, we can see what exactly is on this island. Maybe we can find a way out or at least spot our enemy's ship. He had to have come by boat, unless he lives here."

Jeff shivered before nodding reluctantly.

"Alright. Let's go."

The men set out, setting a steady walking pace that would eat up the land. They walked for hours, scratching themselves on sharp branches and bruising their knees on unseen obstacles. They didn't talk, afraid of what they might attract. Fear took up their thoughts and made each heartbeat more painful than the last. Their limbs shook from the strength of their emotions and their eyes darted into every shadow.

Soon, the land grade began to rise and they found themselves laboring uphill. At some points, they had to scramble up steep bushy hills that taxed their arms and sapped the energy from their legs. As Astyr reached the top of one of these, he waited for the other two to follow. Looking around, he saw the distance they had climbed. Vaguely, he even made out the far shore where everything had been burned. He turned his head from this.

"Stop…please stop. I'm so tired. I need a rest. Just a rest." Jeff implored as he crawled over the edge and onto flatter ground.

"Alright. Are you ok there Ray?" Astyr called down in concern.

"Yea." The man grunted as he grabbed at the bushes he needed to hoist himself up.

He sat as he came to the top, leaning back on his hands and looking out as well.

"Do we have a plan for when we get there, Har—Astyr?"

"Not unless you want to send one by me. I think we should just focus on getting up this mountain."

A moment of quiet and then,

"He's after you, isn't he?" Jeff demanded suddenly. "I was thinking about it and there's no way anyone would come to the island of death just to kill someone. Not unless that someone was important, like say, the mage prince of Fray."

Astyr swallowed. "I don't know."

"Why couldn't you just let him have you before, huh? Why couldn't you have died before you ever set foot on the Safire!"

"Jeff, shut it. He didn't do this. It isn't his fault." Ray sounded uncharacteristically weary.

"Like hell, I wont. You brought this on us! The captain is dead! Everyone is dead! We are going to die and it's your fault!"

Astyr didn't say anything, only looking up and taking it in, blinking away the tears in his eyes.

"I said shut it."

"I don't care what you said."

Ray pushed Jeff in the shoulder hard and grabbed at the man's torn shirt, pulling him close.

"It doesn't matter. Do you hear me? It doesn't matter. That man standing there is your only hope of surviving on this goddamn island. You don't seem to be capable of living on your own. So shut it."

Silence descended on the group on the hill. No one was willing to speak after that episode. Soon, their eyes were drawn to a flock of birds that was startled out of the trees a far way off.

"We should get going." Astyr said grimly, turning and beginning to hike.

No one protested.

* * *

"Astyr! Astyr stop! We need some rest. We can't continue like this. We'll run ourselves out."

Astyr looked back and nodded to Ray's words.

"I was actually just looking for some shelter. We should find somewhere out of the wind. No fires, though."

"No fires." Ray agreed.

Jeff hadn't spoken much since his outburst. He seemed resigned to his company. Now he began to look around in search of a good place for the night.

"Here." He finally called, "It's our best bet."

It wasn't ideal but their conditions weren't really spot on either. There was a slight dip in the ground and shear rock to one side. Above the dip was the magnificent view of the island, which steadily got bigger as they drew farther away from it and approached the top of the mountain.

Wishing he had a bag to set down or something to lie on, Astyr slid his back down the rock, looking at his hands. Gracelessly, the others settled themselves down as well.

"I'll take first shift." Ray said.

"Second." Jeff muttered, swiping at the sand and rocks in front of him.

Astyr only nodded at his allotment. He didn't care, so long as he got some sleep. He was exhausted and sick of being scared. He lay down, back still to the rock, and elbow bent under his head.

* * *

Harry looked around at the market place he found himself in. He thought it would be extremely interesting if it weren't so dead quiet. Not a single soul stirred in the streets. The booths were empty but displayed their wares proudly. The place smelled of spices and dust. There wasn't a plant to be seen.

"This is Istea. It's a marketplace at a small town just outside the desert."

Harry turned and smiled at Astyr who was walking down the street toward him. His smile faded as he took in Astyr's worn countenance. Generally, clothing didn't translate into their dreamscapes. Injuries however, did. Harry drew in a sharp breath at the cuts on Astyr's face and the blood smeared across his cheek. He met Astyr halfway, caressing his cheek in concern.

"What's happened? Are you in danger still?"

"You might say that. Oh but Harry, you can't do anything about it. You're there and I'm here… I'm just glad to see you."

Astyr smiled wanly, scaring Harry.

"Astyr, I can help you! Just tell me where you are!"

"I'm on the Island of Death, Harry. My ship, Safire, is sunk. No one has ever escaped alive." He chuckled. "The name is accurate enough."

Harry closed his eyes slowly and painfully. Then, he snapped them open and adopted a determined look.

"Tell me everything. I'm going to find you. I'm coming to get you."

Astyr shook his head sadly.

"You can't get to the island with magic. It is shrouded in shadow and dark magic. Nothing can penetrate that darkness. You have to approach by sea."

"Then I will."

"It will be too late. Something is hunting me. I wont be around for long."

Harry gasped his breath in, not realizing he was holding it until now.

"No." His voice strained. "No, you will not die. You will be fine. I am going to help you. You are going to live and breath and be fine, ok?"

Astyr eyes searched Harry's as he tried to find an answer. Finally he placed his hands on Harry's shoulders and looked deeply into those deep green irises.

"Harry, I want you to know that you mean everything to me. You have been my guide and I... You gave me a glimpse of a life of possibility and—and love where I had none before and I—" His voice hitched and he couldn't continue.

Harry was shaking his head and tears were slipping down his cheeks.

"Astyr, I love you."

He wasn't prepared when Astyr's head tilted up and he focused on a point past Harry's head. His eyes dilated and his body stiffened. He suddenly disappeared from the dreamscape, leaving Harry completely alone in the phantom street.

Harry turned and turned, crying out again and again, screaming for Astyr to return. He received no response.

* * *

Gary felt a wave of relief when he saw the hulking darkness of the island appear out of the gray fog. They had been rowing through the stuff for hours and now an end was in sight. He carefully navigated as close as he could to the island before commanding the men to ship their oars. They dragged them in, exhausted by the effort.

"A landing crew if you please, gentlemen."

It was somewhat misleading to call it a landing crew because the ship Gary had commandeered had no lifeboats. Instead, they would swim the rest of the way in. Gary readied himself for the shock of the water and took a plunge in. Turning his body around in the darkness, Gary called up to the ship.

"One more thing. You've gotten this far without any difficulties. If you leave with my boat, you wont get your cut of the ruby, understand?"

There was a muttering of "aye" all around before three more of Gary's crew jumped into the water next to him. Not looking around, Gary stroked to the shore, never noticing how black the water really was from the crumbling ashes that were the remains of the Safire.

* * *

Harry woke with a gasp, tears still streaking his face. He flung his covers off and frantically started pawing through his travel gear. He shoved everything in a rucksack, his hands shaking and trembling madly. A last moment addition, Harry grabbed the little figurine Astyr had given him the morning he'd left Haven. Without a second thought, he tied the bag up and hitched it over one shoulder. As an afterthought, Harry sent a patronus to Draco who was back in his own apartment. The patronus carried this simple message: Astyr isn't ok.

As the light from the casting receded from the room, Harry drew a circle above his head. Chanting under his breath, Harry snapped his fingers and disappeared.

* * *

"Wake up! He's here!" The whisper startled him out of the dreamscape, jerking him back to the island.

Astyr quickly got into a crouch, looking around him. Ray was shaking Jeff awake, eyes always returning to one spot among the bushes. Astyr squinted into them and saw nothing. He reached for his animagus form, trying to enhance his sight. Nothing happened. Astyr wasn't very surprised. With that amount of dark magic in the air, there was little chance that any other kind of magic would work.

Unsure of what to do, the men huddled closer to each other, staring into the shadows.

He's watching us, Astyr thought. He's watching and enjoying our fear.

He had never felt so afraid as he stood there, feeling the assassin's eyes on him. It was different from running from fire or being possessed by a shade. It was different even from an invading dark army. This kind of fear was hopeless and cloying. He couldn't ignore it or be distracted. This was the fear of something powerful and unknown having complete control over you. This was the fear of not having anyone to turn to or anything to save you.

Jeff was whimpering and trembling, incoherent with fear. Ray was backing towards the rock slowly, trying to find a way out. Astyr peered into the gloom, trying to spot their hunter. An incredibly agonizing moment passed.

As quick as he could, Jeff broke from the campsite, running in panic. His breaths choked out sobs as he tried to get away. An arrow thumped into his back, felling him in his tracks. His body hit the ground without ceremony.

Astyr swore and began tracing power lines in the air. Ray stared fearfully at his companion's hands. Astyr directed a sling of energy to Jeff's dead body even as an arrow stopped midair before his face. Looking at it briefly, Astyr finished his rune invocation, tying Jeff's sacrifice to himself and Ray. It was the darkest magic he'd ever done. It would protect them for an interval. The atmosphere of the Island de Mort amplified its affects.

Astyr backed away from the still watching assassin, reaching back to Ray.

"Come on." He whispered. They stumbled and ran away. Astyr didn't want to think of the eyes following him.

* * *

Draco shot out of bed when he heard the patronus. No doubt Harry was already in the other world. Draco wasn't sure what he could do for his friend. He didn't even know which world it was. Shoving his legs into his pants, Draco only knew only one thing; Hermione Granger is really good at interpreting this type of thing.

* * *

"Where…are we…going?" Ray demanded, hiking up after the Rune Mage.

"The top." Astyr spared a glance downward before continuing.

The rocks were hard to navigate in the dark but neither complained as they helped each other up.

"Can you…do something? Magic?"

"No, only dark magic. Only dark runes."

"Wha…" Ray gave it up as his knees nearly gave out.

They climbed onward.

* * *

"Now what? What…" Ray panicked, looking around him.

The view was completely lost on either man as they searched for somewhere to go and something to do. The coast line extended all the way around them, outlined by the thick gray walls of fog that encroached on the island's beaches. The cloud cover above was closer than it had been originally but still far enough to leave the top of the mountain clear. The plant life was minimal on the tilted plateau that made up the mountaintop. There was no cover or saving grace of any kind.

Desperate in his search, Astyr spotted a dark place among the rocks and gestured to it. Quickly, they kicked away rocks and dirt, revealing a hole in the ground. Ray put his feet into it immediately scooting forward. Astyr helped to lower him down. Once Ray hit the bottom of the hole, Astyr entered as well, dropping the short distance.

He drew a rune that lifted the dark in the cave. While not harmful, because it dealt with the shadows and was difficult to counter, the rune was considered dark magic and functioned perfectly here. The rune took a minute to activate and wasn't ideal in combat.

The two men found themselves in a wide cavern. The ceiling rippled in odd rock formations and the floor was perfectly flat. They explored tenuously, slightly afraid of what it might be hiding.

"Ray! Stop moving!" Ray froze following Astyr's advice.

Carefully, Astyr stepped up next to the man.

"Look." He said, pointing down in front of them.

The ground fell away in a cliff. A step farther and Ray would have died. Ray shivered and removed his eyes from the drop. He looked across the circular chasm and jerked his head forward.

"There's something there."

Astyr looked, too. The darkness glinted off flawlessly cut facets. The Ruby of Death rotated, suspended in the air, and unreachable from the sides of the abyss.

"They say that the lady of death made it herself. She was in love with a demon from the lowest depths of hell." Ray's voice echoed softly off the walls. "When she learned of his death at the hands of an angel, she poured out her heart into a magically created ruby. They say that whoever possesses the stone holds her heart in his hands."

"Why is it named 'Death'?" Astyr asked, his voice matching Ray's in pitch.

"Because she kills whoever touches her. She sucks out their hearts to keep as her own. The man who holds the Ruby but doesn't touch it holds the power of death."

Both men's heads jerked away from the jewel as a slight impact echoed through the chamber.

"Ray. Run. Go around the chasm and run when you get to the other side. Run and hide."

Ray didn't stop to argue. He followed the line of the hole, disappearing from Astyr's sight. Turning to meet his enemy, Astyr crouched low. A whisper of fabric gave the assassin away and Astyr threw a knife in that direction. It ricocheted off of the rock walls, clattering to the floor.

Without hesitation, Astyr turned and, as an arrow whipped past his ear, he flung himself over the side of the hole and into darkness. From the other side of the cave, Ray watched in horror as his friend plummeted and was gone.

* * *

Gary hiked inland faster and faster as his sense of alarm began to rise. There had been no sign of Astyr's ship. There had, however, been a crowd of crisped bodies on the beach and still more in the forest. Gary had no way to know if any of these were Astyr. His goal had changed after seeing those bodies. He wanted to find survivors, any survivors at all. Maybe if he could find someone, they could lead him to the prince.

Gary's men were given the option of coming with him but, like the yellow-bellied cowards that they were, they chose to remain on the beach. Gary didn't really think they would enjoy the company of dead men but left them to it. His powerful leg muscles worked him up the steep hills and his toned arms expertly levered him up rock cliffs. At one point, He came to a dead body, shot in the back by a black arrow. Near the body, another arrow was hanging in the air, shaft twisting as though it were still in flight.

Taking this as a good sign that Astyr was alive (because how man people have the magic to do that?) Gary made his way upward.

* * *

Harry went directly to the port town closest to uncharted waters. After a few tightlipped inquiries, he found himself at an inn down the street from the wharfs. It was fairly typical and had enough interesting patrons that Harry could gather some information. It was lucky for Harry that he wasn't banking on subtlety because the moment he walked into the bar, the place quieted.

No one inside had ever seen anyone quite like Harry. He was strong and confident as he came to the bar. Edginess radiated off of him that struck fear into their hearts. He addressed the first man he saw and the rest of the bar listened in.

"The Island of death. Where is it." He wasn't asking.

The man clutched at his tankard and stuttered out, "No—no one knows."

"Safire. Where did she go."

Feeling bolder, the man responded, "Well maybe I don't know. Maybe I needs some persuasion and—"

Harry grabbed the man's shirt, unwilling to waste time on buying his information.

"Where. Did. She. Go."

"She headed straight out."

Harry turned. The man who spoke up sat at a table. He blinked at the intensity of Harry's stare before continuing.

"She's two klicks south of the sun. Berk's ship was heading for the island of death. Two more followed her out."

"Two more?"

"One was a little thing with a skeleton crew. That one left Port Valor. Neither that one nor the Safire stopped here. The last to follow was captained by a man by the name of Gary. He came asking here, too."

Harry nodded.

"Good."

With that, he set the man he had assaulted down, popped a coin to the seated man, and strode powerfully out of the inn, making for the harbor.

"Well genteels, I think we just had a lord in our midst," the seated man crowed, holding out the gold coin for all to see. He pocketed it and left. He didn't want it to be stolen after all.

* * *

Harry appropriated a one-man boat off the dock in the harbor. The boat wasn't equipped with sails so Harry stretched his magic across the mast, yard, and boom, creating a shimmering blue field of energy. He grabbed up the tiller and kicked off the dock. Using his elemental powers, Harry summoned a compressed gale, putting it in front of his 'sail'. He stirred the water beneath him, creating a current that dragged him and his little boat out to sea. He would make it to the island in time. He had to.

* * *

So. I feel like this chapter has some problems. I think that I was so concerned about telling the story that I didn't put enough detail in to make it interesting. Tell me if you agree or not. Also, between you and me, I didn't intend on having Harry cross worlds again. I thought he was going to stay home completely oblivious. But then I had to have him meet Astyr when they were asleep and he could say goodbye and a crucial 'I love you'. And then I knew Harry would never just let it happen. So, yea. Plans change.

This entire chapter is leaning towards unhappy, isn't it?

Also, I want to sort of apologize for the dialects. I realize that, to make it more believable, I should have slurred it up a bit. I didn't do it because I wanted to draw your focus more to the horror of the situation than to how they were speaking. Before, I used the dialects to imply illiteracy and make the bar patrons and crewmen more rough around the edges. The last part with Harry at the bar didn't have bad dialects because I wanted to be consistent for this entire chapter. If this is odd or weird, please tell me and I'll try to change it.

Also, regarding the 'two klicks south of the sun' heading. Yea…Well I can only say that since I don't exactly have a map of Astyr's world, I cant really give an accurate heading. I wouldn't want to send Harry to the Azores or anything so we are all going to pretend that klicks apply to the horizon as well as the road, ok?

And on a different note, just so no one is confused, this isnt a crossover. There is no other book, movie, or what have you influencing my AU harry potter world. There are no elements of stargate or sliders or TLOR or anything. I promise.

Last thing, don't worry, **Astyr isn't dead**. As if I would ever kill him.

You'll see.

Tell me what you think.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

A/N Ok so I think I was a little confused when I ended up posting my revamped version. It doesn't matter too much but I'd like to make it clear that Chapter 4 is a completely new chapter but doesn't change the plot in any way and there is a brief scene in Chapter 5 that wasn't there before. Chapter 4 is an extra day before they reach Haven and the bit in Chapter 5 is about Astyr missing his home. If you want to read all of the changes, read the fic over again. I wouldn't personally reread it myself, but that's me.

Chapter 18

...

"I'm telling you, they have to have some sort of connection."

"How does that even help, Mione?"

Hermione was becoming exasperated. She looked up from her book to glare at Malfoy.

"_Because_ idiot, it connects them. They can communicate and share minds. You said it yourself; Harry used legilimency on him. How could he invade someone's thoughts in a completely different universe if they weren't connected?"

"But how does that help? So they are connected. Harry can't just apparate to his side, can he?" Draco gesticulated violently, almost letting his own book drop to the floor as he emphasized his point.

They were sitting in Hermione's living room, paging through some of the many tombs Hermione had collected on mind magic over the years. It was 3 in the morning and neither had made much progress in understanding the latest mystery concerning Harry Potter. They were tired and fed up with each other. That didn't stop them from trying.

"Don't act dumb, Malfoy. You cant apparate without a picture of where you're going in your head. Even you should know that by now."

"Again, I field the question to you, oh great and all knowing leader; how does this even help?"

Hermione's lips thinned, making her look like Headmistress McGonagall.

"If we can understand the nature of the bond, we can understand the nature of Harry's problem. Maybe we can _find_ something that will help."

And so they were back to square one, piecing through the different bonds that could occur between two people from dusty pages. Neither could find anything that could be useful. They were beginning to worry about Harry and a desperate helplessness clouded the room. They continued reading.

...

Gary peered down the hole in the ground anxiously. There wasn't anywhere to go from here unless Astyr had climbed down the other side of the mountain. It was steeper on that side and the scenario seemed highly unlikely. Wiping the sweat from his brow and off his palms, Gary squatted next to the hole before carefully lowering himself down. He hung for a moment before dropping, letting out a grunt of surprise when the ground proved to be just beneath his feet.

Wishing his 'lumos' would work, Gary walked carefully into the cave. He felt along the walls and tested each step he made before transferring his weight and moving on. At some point, Gary decided this wasn't working. Hesitantly, he retreated back to the cave entrance. He jumped up, catching a rock and lifting himself back to the plateau. Looking around, Gary found a branch from a low-lying bush a few yards off.

He used his vest, tearing it up a bit and wrapping it around the bushiest end of the branch. He stripped the rest and shot a spark at the thing, trying to get it to light. Finding his vest was wet from both his 'landing party' and his exertions, Gary swore and threw the thing aside.

Gary sat down and desperately tried to remember a dark spell that would create light. His parents had taught him all sorts of spells he never could use in school but none of them made anything light. He knew a body-burning curse but he didn't think that would be helpful unless he went and found a body. The thought of hauling one even part way up the mountain was not appealing.

"H—Hello?"

Gary shot to his feet. He looked around for the source of the question but found no one.

"Is anyone there?" The voice asked again.

Gary followed the noise and looked down into the hole. There, standing with his upper body visible from the penetrating sunlight with his clothes ragged and eyes looking haunted stood an exhausted sailor.

"Here. Let me help you up."

The man flinched away before nodding. He reached up and clasped arms with Gary who dragged him out.

"Are there any others down there?" He panted once they were both sitting in the grass.

"No. Well there was but not anymore. He…the magician…" The man looked queasy as he tried to talk.

"Hey now. Take it slow. Deep breathes."

The man nodded and continued.

"There was fire. Everyone started bursting into flames. The ship…" He paused and took another route "We were running. We ran until we couldn't run any longer. We ran and then we stopped running. We should have kept running."

"Alright. It's alright now. Then what happened? How many were you?"

"Three. Me, Harry, and Jeff."

Gary blinked. For a moment he though Harry was here but dismissed the notion. It was a common enough name.

"We decided to climb the mountain to get some perspective. Then…Jeff died. Someone, the magician, shot him. Harry saved us and we came here." His eyes lit suddenly, "We found the Ruby! It was there! Right down there!"

"Where is Harry?"

"He…the magician came. Harry fell down the shaft. He died and took the Ruby with him. The magician screamed and left. I've been here ever since."

Gary frowned at the disjointed story. There was something about this Harry falling and the assassin screaming business that didn't add up. Why would he scream?

"Do you know where Astyr is? I need to find him."

The man looked a little shocked.

"Oh I'm sorry. Astyr is—was Harry. Harry was what we called him."

Gary froze. No. It couldn't be. Astyr couldn't be gone, not him. He seemed to bounce out of danger and never get hurt. Gary's features softened in sorrow and he looked at his hands, wishing he could change it. He had to see. He had to investigate for himself.

"You said he fell?"

"Yea. Down a chasm."

"Show me."

"It's no use, sir. Even if you found him alive and well…He got the Ruby."

"I don't understand."

"The Ruby, Sir. The reason it is so powerful is because it holds the Lady of Death's heart. When a man touches it, his own heart is taken from him. A man's heart is never enough to hold her heart and he perishes instantly. It is why the Ruby is so sought after. It is love at its most painful. Man always searches for such a love as the Ruby of death's."

"And he touched it?"

"He fell on it."

"Show me."

...

Harry frowned unhappily at the dawn. The night had passed and Astyr was still in danger. Harry could see a dark shape in the distance. He could only hope it was the Island of Death. He was on the right heading but sometimes that wasn't enough. If his angle was off he could miss it completely.

As Harry stared into the rising sun, a spot of it seemed to separate itself from the mass. The pinpoint of light moved to the left of the star, getting bigger and bigger. As the light moved, a sound washed over Harry that was uniquely peculiar. The sound came closer and closer, developing into hideous screams. The ball of light flew towards Harry, covering a great distance over the ocean. The light resolved into a spherical shape and Harry could see dark energy moving around inside of it.

The sphere, Harry noted, was also dark in nature. Its purpose was entrapment and movement. Harry was incredulous to see that the sphere was mostly made of occlumency shielding, which he himself had developed.

"Astyr, you genius." Harry said in wonder as the sphere flew away and the shades' crying receded.

The prince had trapped all of those shades (hundreds it looked like) with enchantments based off of the shielding technique Harry had used to destroy the shade in Astyr's mind. Translating a piece of mind magic into spell form was complicated enough without adding everything Astyr had. That enchantment was a work of art.

Happy to be retracing Astyr's steps and feeling close to him in some way, Harry continued sailing for the smudge on the horizon.

...

_You do not hold your heart. You cannot have mine._

Astyr was in darkness. He tried to open his eyes but he could not. Where am I? He thought.

_You are here. Where is your heart, man?_

I don't know.

_I want it._

It isn't yours to want, he thought rebelliously. The voice was female and strong. He could hear the greed and distain in her tone.

_You are like me. Your heart is like mine. Your heart beats in love like mine. _She sounded speculative and mildly interested.

Your heart is twisted. I am nothing like you. You want to keep my heart and never let it go. My heart is mine.

_No. Your heart is his._

Either way, it isn't yours.

_I have no use for a heartless man. Go to he who has your heart. _She dismissed him.

How?

_I will send you there._

It's too far. It's in another world.

_What world? _

Astyr thought as hard as he could about the dreamscapes he had seen. He thought of Hogwarts and Gringotts. He thought of Hogsmede and the forbidden forest. He saw the Dursley's house in his mind's eye and the park Harry frequented in Surrey. He thought as hard as he could. In the back of his mind, he could scarcely believe what was happening to him. The Lady of Death was sending him home. She was sending him to Harry.

_Ah. I know that world._

Astyr lost a hold of his thoughts and slipped into oblivion.

...

Harry hissed and clutched at his arms, his stomach, his head, and then his chest. The feeling of something leaving him was extreme. He could feel a bond to his mind break that he hadn't noticed before. It had been strained and tense and now it broke. He remembered the feeling this bond gave him. It had started with Astyr's Ruby statue. It had started with the dreams.

Harry grabbed at his pack, digging through it until he saw the red figure. As exquisite as always, the libra's body and wings continued to glow. Smiling in relief, Harry reached down, meaning to bring it into the light. As he touched it, the statue disintegrated into dust. Harry drew a shaking palm up to his face and he watched, as the red of the Ruby dust seemed to melt away in his hand.

Harry was breathing too quickly. He was panicking and he had nothing to calm him down, no thought that could quell his fear. He's dead. He's dead. I know it.

He looked up at the towering mass of fog that drifted just two meters off his bow. His oars were already out and his sail lost its energy when he stopped supplying it. Determinedly, Harry rowed. He quickly disappeared into the gray.

...

Gary tilted his head at the sound of creaking and splashing that drifted out of the fog. His own crew was taking a rest from rowing so the sound was distinctive to his ears. He peered over the side, trying to get a glimpse of what was causing it. Gradually the prow of a small boat came within sight. The back of the rower soon followed.

"Harry?" Gary called, uncertain if it was he.

The rower stopped and twisted around. His eyes trailed up to Gary's and he let out a sobbing breath.

"Come on." Gary said kindly, holding out a hand.

Harry stood up and grabbed it, stepping up on deck. He looked around quickly at everyone's faces before letting his eyes rest solely on Gary.

"Astyr. Did you find him? Is he alright? Is he here?" Desperation was written in every line of his body and in every word he spoke.

Gary only shook his head. He didn't know how to break this news. It was something Harry should never have to hear.

"Report, soldier." Harry demanded in his commanding tone, causing Gary and everyone around him to stand taller.

"Astyr died, Sir."

Gary's voice was low. He hated what he said.

"Did you see it? Did you see him die? Did you see the light leave his eyes, colonel?"

Harry was getting defensive, demanding a way out of the truth before him.

"There is an eyewitness, Sir. Ray, age twenty-seven, Height and body weight; 6 feet over 220. He saw Astyr come in contact with a malignant artifact and fall down the central vent of a dormant volcano. The body was not recovered."

Gary watched as Harry's eyes became dazed. His limbs visibly shook and his fingers spread. He didn't look like he knew where to put his hands. When his eyes refocused, he looked piercingly into Gary's gaze.

"Turn this boat around, soldier."

Swallowing, Gary took a dare.

"No."

"What did you say?"

Harry was shocked. None of his men had ever questioned his orders before. He didn't exactly know what to do about it.

"No, Sir."

Harry just looked on in shock.

"He's gone, Harry. He's gone."

This last was in a whisper. Harry shook his head, no. Gary put his arms up and around Harry, pulling him forward. Harry's head was still shaking, no. He tried to pull away but Gary was being strong about it. He put more strength into his limbs, shouting "No!"

Gary held on, and waited. It wasn't long before Harry lost his fight. His spirit left and he fell into Gary's embrace, sobbing into his chest and shoulder. Gary could only rub his back.

"Oh god, Gary. He's gone."

"I know."

Gary's tears fell and mingled with Harry's. They cried for their lost prince.

Behind them, Ray took some initiative and had the rowers back at their posts. The ship would leave the fog in two more hours.

...

"What will you do?"

Harry looked up from his cup, which Gary had conjured when they left the fog. The speaker was the man who had seen Astyr die, Ray. Harry shook his head, looking to the side slightly to watch the darkness of the isle recede. He didn't want to think. He only wanted to feel numb and unhurt.

"I don't know." He rasped out, uninterested in the idea.

"I'm going to get a job on a ship going south. I don't know where ill get the money, but I'm going to buy me a boat one day. I'll call it Safire II, or maybe the Frayan Prince. I'll tell his story to everyone I meet, Mr. Harry. He was a good man."

"Yea. He was a good man."

That sounded entirely too much like a eulogy for Harry's tastes so he decided to leave. He stood up, putting his mug down and gesturing to Gary.

"We're going."

Gary nodded and trotted over. He grabbed Harry's hand and looked to Ray. Harry also looked at him and spoke sincerely.

"Thank you. Thank you for all you did for Astyr. I hope your life and plans go well. This ship is yours. Name it what you will."

With that and a confused look from Ray, Harry drew a circle over his head. He chanted in his mind and sent himself and Gary home.

...

The assassin directed his ship out of the gloom. His dead sailors supplied the forward movement with their sacrifice. He needed to find a way across the universal divide. When the boy had fallen, he felt the protective heart magics of the Ruby flare and he was momentarily out of reach. Soon after, the boy had disappeared from the world. It frustrated the assassin. But it didn't matter. In the end, he would catch up to the wayward prince. And when he did, he would kill him once and for all.

...

A/N Very short chapter. I wanted there to be a break between this and the next chapter. The next chapter skips a lot of time. I also didn't want to make this chapter any longer because I'm afraid Ill screw it up and make it more corny by adding too much 'oh woe, Astyr is dead' in there.

I am concerned that I'm beginning to tell this story through the conversations people are having. I feel less like I'm telling the story and more like they are taking over. I am nervous about this development and I'd appreciate your view on it. I really really want to skip this stuff and just write the end so maybe that's translating into the fic.

After I read what I had written, it struck me that the poem about two lovers trading hearts by e. e. cummings was applicable. So I went and found it online:

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

...

Astyr blinked his eyes, unsticking his eyelashes and squinting blurrily. The sky above him was dark and whatever he was lying on was hard and merciless on his bare back. Lazily, he lolled his head and looked to the side. Seeing nothing but more black and the ground stretching away from him, he sighed and moved his body slightly. He squirmed his back against the hard surface, wondering what it was. Slowly and indifferently, he turned his head and looked to the other side of his body.

He only had enough time to widen his eyes as two bright white lights flew towards him. A blaring sound filled his world and in a feat of adrenalin, he desperately rolled away. The creature narrowly missed him, flying by faster than anything Astyr had ever seen. He got to his feet quickly, looking around for more bright lights. He ducked low to the ground as another pair came from behind him. After it passed, Astyr ran across its path, jumping a metal fence. He found himself tangled in underbrush and surrounded by looming trees. He ran through the trees but soon slowed when he noticed that the beasts weren't following him. Eventually, he had to stop and rest. He hadn't felt so exhausted since the siege on Fray. He'd noticed at some point that he was completely naked. His cuts and wounds seemed stark against his skin in the light from the stars.

Feeling dizzy, Astyr set out again, walking through the woods and balancing himself with the help of the trees he ran into. Soon he came onto a flat road lit from above by tall lamps and made of a substance Astyr had never seen before. Around him were houses in a style and form he had also never seen before. Each house had a single door and a front bay view window. Most had drawn curtains but some did not. Inside these houses, Astyr saw people in strange clothing looking at strange flashing lights. He staggered on down the road. He heard a low grumble and looked up. He panicked as he saw twin lights coming towards him again. He froze, unsure of what to do. They came at him faster than he could think and only horror occupied his mind. He didn't end up doing anything as the lights turned, revealing the flank of the monster. It went up to one of the houses and stopped. Its lights went out and soon, people began to get out of the thing. Astyr watched in confusion as they laughed and conversed, ignoring the dead creature beside them. They didn't notice his naked figure at all.

Dazed, he walked on.

At last, he found he could go no further and he sat on a doorstep to his right. Obviously summoned by the noise he made or the smell he gave off, a dog from inside the house started barking. Astyr quickly stood ignoring the protests of his legs. He watched fearfully as the door opened and a little old woman was revealed.

She was saying to the dog, "Look now Fiz, there's nothing there—Oh!"

She had spotted him and he took a step back blinking at the light coming from the doorway.

"Oh you poor dear! What has happened to you? Come in! Come in! Jerald! Jerald, there's a man outside the door!"

Astyr wasn't sure what to do as the woman turned her head, obviously called her husband.

"Well, what does he want, Edna?" Came the husky man's voice from inside.

"He's hurt, Jerald! Do come in, dear boy."

Astyr hesitantly stepped inside, letting the dog lick his fingers and the old woman shut the door behind him.

...

"Where am I?"

"Oh good! Jerald? Jerald, he's awake! How are you feeling, dear?"

Astyr looked into the smiling eyes of the old woman. Turning his head, Astyr could see that he was on a bed and beyond the woman were some shelves and glass vases.

"Well, there he is! The man of the hour!"

Astyr saw an old man walk towards him, holding a deep plate with soup in it. That was when his stomach made itself known, grumbling loudly. The old woman smiled at the sound and Astyr would have blushed if he were feeling up to it.

"Here you go, let me help you sit up a bit."

She positioned the pillows and helped him scoot back. Smoothing the cover, the woman scrutinized his face before taking the bowl from the man. She sat at his side and held out the plate.

"Do you think you can manage on your own, dearie?"

Astyr nodded mutely, taking the bowl and lifting the spoon to his lips. The soup was different from any soup he'd ever had. It's a whole new world, he thought in amusement, tasting it again.

...

"Please pass the butter, dearie."

"Sure." Astyr responded, handing the dish over.

Sandra and Jerald Murphy had been quite surprised at Astyr's reactions to certain things. He had asked many questions about everyday objects and a few about completely abnormal objects. They thought he was a little bit loopy but he had a good enough heart. Sandra had pulled out her son's old clothes from years ago and Jerald had happily showed the young man around town. Soon, they had a healthy routine. Astyr helped out around the house and did things that Jerald couldn't in his old age. In exchange, the couple housed him and fed him, treating him as though he were their son.

Now they were settling over a nice dinner of chicken and rice. Sandra and Astyr had cooked while Jerald read to them from the day's newspaper. There were problems in France that made headlines here in England. Astyr finished up and began to clear the dishes. He never did any magic because he feared that these people were what Harry called 'muggles' and he didn't want to scare them. To live without the knowledge of magic had seemed like a dreadful idea to Astyr but now, as he lived in a house full of magic without magic, he could understand the lifestyle's appeal.

When Astyr returned to the table, he put a hand on Sandra's shoulder. She looked up to him expectantly, waiting for what he had to say.

"Tomorrow, I will go to London. I need to find someone and it seems like the best place to look."

Jerald looked down and Sandra's mouth curved down, accentuation her wrinkles.

"Oh Astyr. We understand. We will miss you dreadfully, dear boy."

Astyr returned this sentiment, smiling sadly at the old couple.

"I'll pack you a lunch! You'll get awfully hungry on the way, don't you think?"

"Yes, Sandra. Thank you."

She happily bustled away, glad to be doing something constructive.

"Why don't we break out my old maps so we can get you on the best route. It isn't far from here but you wouldn't want to waste time going the wrong way, right?"

"It sounds like a smart idea, Jerald."

Astyr left the next morning with a pack full of clothes and food on his back, fifty pounds in his pocket, and a pile of stamps so that he didn't have an excuse not to write. It was two months after his appearance on the doorstep of 115, Wisteria Lane. Surrey would miss him.

...

"This article is brilliant, Harry. I almost feel inferior."

"That's impossible, Draco." Harry replied absently, flicking his quill over the papers in front of him.

"Really, though. I think you're really getting it through to people. You're sending them the right message about muggles. I mean, I've never even realized how powerful they are! Or how many of them are on the planet!"

"Was there something you needed, Draco? I need to finish correcting these."

Draco's excitement subsided as he looked to his friend. Harry had changed. He didn't laugh or sigh or do much of anything anymore. He responded to questions and smiled politely but Draco felt a barrier between him and the rest of the world. It was like everyone was one of his students, deserving a polite smile and nothing more.

He and Hermione spent as much time as they could keeping Harry company. In some respects, Draco could see that Harry was glad that they were there to keep him from falling. In others, he could see his friend sinking in his own way, functional but not healthy. He looked down to the article in his hands. Harry had been writing them once a week since he'd returned from the Island of Death. In each, something new about muggles was revealed and something shocking about wizards was uncovered as well.

Things like microwaves and the concept of electricity excited wizarding scholars while crude facts about primitive wizarding techniques and governmental policies were gossiped over by angry housewives. Harry's alias, Michael Evans wrote the plain and bare truth about both worlds. Muggleborns were found swarmed with mail asking if Evans' story checked out. It always did. In public, Harry Potter agreed completely with everything 'Michael' said and he often pressed for the wizarding world to take a closer look. In private, Harry wasn't very passionate about anything at all.

When Harry's position as DADA professor at Hogwarts was announced, hundreds of parents sent letters of welcome and gratitude to the hero. They were never opened. The parents sent their kids on the train, asking for autographs and letters home about the class. They were denied direct access to the school unless there was a medical emergency regarding their children. When Headmistress McGonagall asked the students to greet their newest professor, Harry received a standing ovation the likes of which the great hall had never seen. Harry took it quietly, only saying to Minerva that they wouldn't be clapping come Monday's homework assignment.

Things progressed. Harry's students were awed and that generally allowed him to have soft-spoken discussions with them during class. He knew how to stimulate their minds and soon they were contributing to his lectures, often falling into philosophical debates and leaving the students glowing happily about their discoveries. Harry took to leaving the school after classes had ended. Only Draco knew where he went at night.

Sometimes it was one of his estates where he would spend an evening alone. Often, it was various muggle clubs and bars where he would drink the night away and aparate to Draco's apartment, too drunk to make the trip up to the castle. Harry was as quiet drunk as he was sober.

"There's nothing to it." He said when Draco asked. "He's dead. Nothing to say at all."

...

Astyr walked down the streets of London in a slight daze. The marking for London on Jerald's old map had been bigger and bolder than the rest of the places. Astyr just hadn't realized that bigger and bolder meant_ bigger _and _bolder_. The lights from the streets and windows were inspiring and the buildings themselves towered over Astyr's head.

He walked down the sidewalk, taking everything in. He listened to other people's conversations and frowned in confusion at what he heard. He passed strange stores that didn't seem to have any practical purpose at all. He was clearly a tourist and was often stopped by well-wishers trying to point him in the right direction. Unfortunately for them, Astyr didn't have a direction in which they could point. They were baffled by his place names: Hogwarts, the Dursley's, Hogsmede, etc.

As Astyr rounded a street corner, a group of teenagers came towards him. Two were yelling at each other. The others were laughing and hanging off their comrades.

"You're a bloody prick, you know that Andy? I can't believe you, sometimes."

"Oh, get off your high horse. You know it was funny. Why don't you chill out?"

The couple was engrossed in their argument and Astyr had to step around the group as they passed.

Just before they turned the corner, one of the others in the group shouted out, "Just shag already!"

Astyr stopped in his tracks. That was third time he'd heard something like that and it was getting annoying. He turned and followed up behind the group. Carefully, he tapped on one of the boy's shoulder. He turned to look and caught another's arm, effectively halting everyone. They all looked at Astyr curiously.

"That word that you just used, 'shag'... What does it mean?"

Grins began playing out on their faces.

"What, are you American or something? Shag, you know, to fuck."

"To get it on!" called a girl.

"To make love." The female half of the couple corrected haughtily.

Astyr's eyebrows lifted in surprise.

Then he couldn't keep the quirky smile off his mouth.

"Really?"

...

A/N I know, I know; this really is shaping up to be something of a soap opera. I mean, even Harry said so. And now look, someone died but he's magically come back to life. The screen write is nearly complete and we are ready to start filming.

Shortest chapter to date! But again, I wanted to separate real time from fly by time. Though really, it seems like a filler chapter doesn't it?

Gaw!! Why all this agony? Why can't they get together already? I know I'm writing it but still, even I am getting sick of this whole 'a world apart' nonsense. Don't worry though; I think we're almost done.

Thanks for the suggestions! I think this chapter has more descriptive appeal (though you can probably still tell that I want to skip ahead).


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

A/N Draco and Hermione will never date in any fic I ever write including this one.

...

There really aren't enough wizards in London, Astyr thought as he stepped into the Leaky Cauldron. The sign was old and cracked, hanging dispiritedly and unmoving. The diamond-shaped windows were dim and tinted, giving the place an uninteresting atmosphere of gloom. The pub looked abandoned and sinister from the outside. He had walked by the small entrance dozens of times, unable to believe that the culmination of his efforts was so drastically dull. This was the entrance to wizarding London?

It had taken him a long time to find a wizard among the droves of muggles that walked the city streets. Astyr had spent his nights in various places throughout the last month. He'd worked for meal tickets and a room to stay in. He'd lived out of his bag as he searched the city for jobs, shelter, and wizards.

Only yesterday, He'd finally spotted one strangely clad man with that inherent magical fire which bespoke of witchcraft and asked him how to get to the magical world. It took a lot of fast talk to avoid a quick obliviate and even more to find the Leaky Cauldron. He'd finally gotten there, though. That was what counted.

Stepping into the shady pub, Astyr tracked the magic playing out before his eyes. Glasses washed and stacked themselves, chairs moved out of peoples' paths, and moving pictures were displayed proudly on the walls. This kind of thing never happened in his world and it was a treat to see it. Pausing to watch a moment longer, Astyr managed to yank his eyes away from the animated mop only when an old witch began to look at him suspiciously.

Astyr walked up to the counter and caught the bartender's attention. He leaned forward, smiling up at the ugly man.

"I'm guessing this isn't the whole of the wizarding world. Would you mind telling me where the rest is?"

The bartender looked at him distrustfully. He flicked an accusatory finger towards the prince.

"Are you a muggle? Do I need to call the ministry?"

"What? No. I'm just looking for…Gistgots? Grimgoes? The bank. I'm looking for the bank."

"Hey Sheila, I think we have a muggle here."

Astyr's eyes widened in alarm and he shook his head quickly, pleading "No. No I'm not a muggle. I'm a wizard. I'm just…I'm new in town. I'm American."

Why did he have to lie to these people, anyway? They seemed so close-minded.

"Oh, an American. Well you have a nice stay in London, sir. The alley is just out back. Sheila, show him the brick!"

Astonished, Astyr allowed himself to be led out back and watched as 'Sheila' tapped one of the bricks in the wall. In an impressive feat of magic, the bricks rolled outward to reveal the alley in all its magical splendor.

...

"Professor Potter?"

"Yes, Ms. Davis?"

The girl fidgeted under his gaze. He waited patiently for her to collect herself. He always tried to make his students as comfortable as possible but it was hard when they grew up during the second war. In some cases, he had killed their parents or saved their siblings. It was hard to get past preconceived notions.

"I was wondering, sir."

Harry lifted his brow slightly, encouraging her to continue.

"Well, I mean...I was thinking about the war and um…Well I just want to know, sir, how you manage to continue going on when so many people…and..?"

Harry sat back and adopted a thoughtful look. Around him, the third years were watching with interest. The lecture had started out with the details of certain medical magics that were discovered during Voldemort's second rise to power. Potions brewed by Severus Snape relieved the aftermath of the cruciatus cruse and mediwitches such as Katherine Bell developed new techniques for medical teams in the field.

This question wasn't entirely unexpected. The second war hit too close to home; it would always be too personal to think of objectively. How should he answer it, though? It was likely that Ms. Davis had lost someone and Harry didn't really know how to deal with that. He shied away from his own old and recent losses.

"Loss isn't really something you can grow from. I don't think I ever did 'continue' but I tried to do what I could to save those people that I could. When it wasn't enough, I lost them. When someone so close to your heart dies, you don't recover."

"So what do you mean, Professor?" asked a curious boy in the front row.

"I mean that I feel their deaths everyday. I haven't gotten over it and I haven't continued past it. I've learned to function with the pain by shutting myself away from it."

The class was silent. Most of them understood what he was saying. They knew that he, more than most, knew about death and the effects of war.

A muggleborn asked stubbornly, "Is that healthy, Professor?"

"No, Ms. Lane." He smiled at the young girl. It wasn't a happy smile by any means.

She was the spitting image of Hermione at thirteen. She never failed to dig for the truth and she often found the bottom of every mystery. This wasn't something she would understand so he redirected the conversation. He didn't want to think about death right now.

"You're right, it isn't healthy. But I don't think I could function otherwise. Ms. Bell, however, was very good at keeping her patients alive. She would prioritize them by the severity of a wound and she kept a curse-breaker with her at all times. Often, the death eaters would curse any physical wounds so that the patient died on the operating table. Ms. Bell would have her curse breaker…"

Harry continued with the lecture. He wouldn't let Astyr's death hinder him. He would shut it out so that he could continue to help these children and his world. He ignored the ache in his heart. It would never go away.

...

"You know, something's been bothering me." Hermione said, stacking the papers in front of her neatly.

"Oh no. Here we go." Draco drawled, slipping his feat up onto Hermione's desk.

She swatted at them until he dropped them before continuing.

"It's just, you know how Harry and Astyr dreamed together every night?"

"Yea. A real nice touch, I'd imagine." Draco smirked at the idea of a nightly visitor.

"Well that had to be a pretty strong bond to do it."

Hermione's brow was drawn in thought and she shuffled through her papers half-heartedly.

"Probably. Where are you going with this, Granger?"

"Strong bonds like that don't just appear out of the blue, you know." She resorted to her defensive know-it-all tone that made Draco sneer, "They have to be put there by something like a curse or some sort of powerful magic."

"You think Astyr cursed Harry?" He demanded incredulously.

Hermione sighed. "I don't know what I think."

"Well in that case, why don't I send a thought your way, hmm?" His tone lightened considerably as a new mood overtook him.

Hermione rose skeptical eyes to Draco's lounging form. She scowled at the boots that had reappeared on her desk.

"What do I have in mind then, Draco?" She'd opted to ignore them for now.

"Why, a drink with me, of course."

...

Astyr approached the desk at the bank warily. He had never seen so much marble in his life. It was slightly intimidating and Astyr became more and more cautious the closer he came to the teller's booth. Still looking around at the magic that ran up the large marble columns and trying to place where he had seen that type of magic before, Astyr spoke to the man in front of him.

"I'd like to take out a loan."

As he finished his sentence, he looked forward and got a good look at the worker. He jerked slightly in surprise, staring at the little green creature wearing a dark colored suit. It was a goblin. Astyr looked around and saw suddenly that everyone working here was a goblin. He relaxed, as he saw no humans in sight. Goblins were fundamentally good creatures. He had spent a lot of time with them in Fray. These ones looked very strange in formal human clothing.

"Do you hold an account?"

Astyr blinked at the bored inquiry the teller made. He didn't sound like a very happy goblin.

"No. Do I need one?"

"Yes. You can't take out a loan without an account and credibility with the bank. Next!"

Astyr glanced doubtfully behind him. There was no one waiting in line and the bank looked dreadfully unbusy.

"Um…Look, I just came from…another place and I don't have credibility. I promise I'll pay it back."

The goblin began to look ugly, his face squashing in annoyance.

"Do you have bank statements from your previous accounts, letters of referral, passport, birth certificate, application forms, and a two hundred galleon deposit to set up a new Gringotts account?"

Astyr momentarily thought back to the treasury at the Royal Palace in Fray. It was likely overwhelmed and destroyed by the dark army.

"Let's go with 'no'. What can I do?"

The goblin stared at him in distaste. Astyr had never seen such an expression on a goblin's face before. It was unbecoming. As the silence lengthened, Astyr began to lose his hope and his patience. He'd never had financial trouble before. He shifted closer, putting a hand on the desk.

"Ok, maybe there is a pension fund for world travelers? Maybe some sort of support group?"

He was obviously not getting any money as the Goblin's frown deepened.

"Are you licensed with the MOM as an OW?"

Another goblin got up from behind his desk, coming to see what the trouble was.

"I need a license?"

The goblin was stopped from responding as the other addressed him in gobbledegook.

"_Grabstake, what does it want this time?"_

"_It's such a stupid creature. It wants money, as all humans do. Pathetic thing."_

Here, Grabstake sneered angrily at Astyr. The other goblin gave him a superior smirk, obviously taking pleasure in what he thought was Astyr's ignorance. Both expressions changed to shock when Astyr gave into his anger and spoke out.

"_I don't know what I ever did to you, but this is the worst case of hoarding I've ever seen."_

Astyr's insult was carefully played. He didn't want to alienate them completely but he'd had enough of their attitudes. Hoarding was not uncommon among goblins. It was expected of them, in fact. Accusing someone of hoarding was another matter altogether. It was not something that would ever enter polite conversation. It served as a perfect rebuke for Astyr to use on the condescending goblins.

The goblins were too shocked to say anything. They obviously had never been put in this situation before. It looked to Astyr like they talked behind their client's backs all the time. That spurned a little bit more anger in the young prince.

"_Perhaps I should introduce myself."_

Astyr flicked his hand, wishing he had his staff but managing adequately without it. Goblin magic, which he now recognized from the marble columns, ran around his head in a single yellow ribbon. On it, his house crest and his goblin ranking were proudly displayed before it dissipated.

"_I am Astyr, High Mage of Fray, Ambassador and Hornholder to the Goblin nation."_

He bowed slightly.

"_Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"_

Grabstake was completely taken aback. Horror slowly dawned his features as he realized what he had done. He had insulted a superior! He thought he might die of the humility. The polite inquiry was a slap in the face. He was standing before a _Hornholder_! A chosen of the Goblin peoples! He thought he might be sick.

Astyr smiled at the queasy look on both goblins' faces.

"_Very well then." _He said when an answer was not immediately forthcoming, "_I would like to speak with your king."_

Grabstake nodded dazedly and gave a low bow. He shuffled to a door and gestured for Astyr to enter. Then he scurried off in search of the Goblin King.

...

Harry leaned up against the counter and signaled to the bartender. He slid into a seat and ordered 'something hard' before looking around him. This place was typical if on the pricey side. He didn't really feel like going to a club tonight. He just wanted something to drink.

Sipping at the glass in front of him, he sighed as he waited for numbness. It never came. When Ron died, he drank constantly. Hermione wasn't in much shape to yell at him and his instructors didn't have any sway over his actions anymore. Draco took a different approach to helping him however; he drank right along side him.

Draco was actually the most helpful in getting Harry out of his funk. His bitter humor lightened Harry's mood and his attitudes toward life changed dramatically. Ron's death had changed the Boy Who Lived completely. Alcohol had always numbed that pain. Now, as he sat in a muggle bar, Harry tried to numb his pain and night after night and drink after drink, numbness eluded him. Harry had begun taking dreamless sleep potions before bed. He'd tried not to sleep at all but that stopped working after a while.

When he laid his head down on his pillow at night, he desperately tried not to think of the dream he wouldn't be having. The first evening after Astyr's death, Harry didn't even remember about the dreamscape. He only fell asleep as a consequence of his exhausted mourning. When he woke from his sleep, he felt the fresh pain in his heart double as he realized he hadn't dreamed at all.

Harry sipped again at his drink, wondering what it was and why he had ordered it. Memories came crashing down on him and it was all he could do not to spill his drink. He made a strangled sound from the tightening in his chest and throat. He remembered Astyr's smile and his laughter. He remembered their first conversation in the bird's nest, making puns about their names, and laughing down at Esmeralda. He remembered getting drunk with him, spending hours by his side, and holding him in the earliest hours of the morning.

Draco had asked once if Harry was in love with the man or the dream of the man. Harry had said he wasn't sure.

"Why can't you be sure, Harry? You didn't know him very long. Maybe you just wanted to be in love, you know?"

Harry had been crying earlier in the day when Draco hadn't seen. He was dried out by the time Draco had approached him. He'd only been able to screw up his face bitterly and respond with what he knew to be the truth.

"You're right in a sense. I was in love with a dream. But it wasn't the dream of having a boyfriend or—or living on some emotionally high plane of existence or what have you. I'm in love…" He'd had to stop and collect his thoughts. "I was in love with the perfection that he was. I was in love with the hair and the grin and the way he talked and everything that he was. He was an opposite to me…a piece of a puzzle…No. He made my life, my experiences…Large. Everything mattered because he was there and then he wasn't. I mean to say that every moment I had with him was worth a thousand thousand words, hopes, aspirations, and desires. Every second, every millisecond of his life made the entire world, not just mine, a more exciting, thoughtful, wonderful, deep, and powerful place. He was my dream…he…"

Words had failed him. He had looked down at his hands in confusion and loss, tracing the paths of his veins because he hadn't known what to say or where to go from there. Draco had been silent as he stood up. He'd squeezed Harry's shoulder and he'd walked to the door.

"I was wrong, Harry. You are in love with him. I'm sorry. For whatever it's worth, I'm so sorry."

He'd left Harry to his thoughts. It had taken him twenty minutes to snap out of the cycle that his mind had locked into.

Harry's trembling hand set his glass down before he spilt it. He sucked in deep breaths and tried not to think, not to feel, not to react to his memories. He wasn't successful and the reality of the bar was trying to fade from his conscious mind as the memories swirled through his body. He knocked back the glass quickly in order to feel something physical to tie him to this place.

"Tough day at work?"

The voice came from his right. He looked only briefly to the young man before returning his gaze to his hands and the glass that had somehow cracked while he wasn't paying attention.

"No."

The other's voice did not lose any of its cheer as he said, "Right. Well I would be careful with that wand if I were you."

Harry blinked and looked down to his pants pocket where his wand was poking out. He was startled for a second before he remembered that it wasn't eleven inches anymore and he couldn't hide it there. His original wand had died with Voldemort.

"Thanks. I didn't think any other wizards come to places like this."

"What, you mean muggle bars? They don't. I'm a muggle."

The statement was a challenge, daring Harry to patronize him for not having magic. Harry only grunted before going back to his glass. As helpful as this guy was, Harry didn't have the stability to chitchat. He obviously wouldn't take a hint, though.

"My sister is a muggleborn." The man continued when no response was forthcoming. "She attends your wizarding school, Hogwarts. She says wizards are biased pigs."

This was also a blatant challenge directed towards the wizarding world. Harry finally acknowledged that the man wouldn't go away.

"We can be."

He turned to get a good look at the man. He was in his mid-twenties and looked very good in a dark shirt and perfectly fitting jeans. The skintight outfit confirmed Harry's suspicions about the man and he wondered how he was going to get out of this conversation without offending him.

"But you're not like that, right? How interesting." The other continued.

The man smirked attractively, reminding him of Draco.

"I'm not."

Harry didn't seem to be much for long drawn out explanations tonight. He actually started thinking about going home. Oblivious sleep might be just what the mediwitch ordered. He winced as he remembered his dreams.

"Not what?"

"Interesting. Or, for that matter, interested."

He put a slight emphasis on the last word to make his intention clear. The other man's eyes looked to the side but he took the rejection well.

"That's ok. I'm more into blondes, anyway."

Harry's neck straightened and he looked more closely at the man. A mental list of criteria scrolled through his head and he ticked off things as he went. Finally, he smiled for the first time that night, making the muggle look confused.

"Hey, what's your name?"

"David Lane."

Harry ignored the thought of his student Sarah Lane, and their obvious connection.

"Well David, you just gave me a brilliant idea."

...

Harry warily eyed his bed as he moved around the room. He was exhausted and he knew that if he didn't go to sleep within the next hour, he would be unable to function at all come class time. He took off his clothes, leaving his underwear on and nothing else. Although summer had already passed, his nights seemed to get hotter and hotter. His thoughts churned and his blood pumped, leaving him hot and wanting. He sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed, unwilling to take the next step and lie down. He knew what came next; First the memories and then the heat. The sweat would make sleep unbearable and the sheets would stick to his skin. He would toss and turn, trying to sleep but not wanting to face the endless dark that had replaced the dreamscape. Throughout the day Harry dreaded this moment. It was when he must face his demons. It was when he must deny again and again the reality of his situation. It was when he must deny, could not live without denying, the fact that his life would never be as good as it was or better than it is now.

He pivoted his body and lay flat. He itched with the wish to fidget and get more comfortable but he knew no position would feel right. As he stared at the ceiling that he once looked at so eagarly, he let the tide of memories overtake his mind and eyes. He felt that death acutely, pushing at his soul and pealing at his resolve. He sobbed but refused to move or look away from the aged stone above him.

That smile flashed through his mind and tore at him as it had every night before this. There wasn't anything he could do. That smile, those eyes, and that life was dead. Harry remembered touring Hogwarts in their dreamscape, pointing out important places and laughing at His interpretation. He remembered the night of siege and the fire he'd seen in the prince's eyes. He remembered the fond look on his face as he told a fairy tale to his sister and the smile he had given Harry when it was done.

He tried as hard as he could not to think of him. He tried not to remember. He didn't ever want to block him from his mind but every good memory he had was overshadowed and made bitter with Astyr's demise. Every memory and thought was tainted by the foulness, the evilness that had killed his love.

Harry curled his body and turned to the side, feeling the heat rise in his body even as his spirits fell. He felt the sweat on his back clinging to the sheets and he closed his eyes in mourning. There wasn't anything he could do. Astyr was dead.

...

Draco fretted with his hair in the mirror, trying to get it to look as flyaway as Harry's did. If he told himself five years ago that he would be trying to look more like Potter when he turned twenty, he would have shot himself. He had to admit though, after years of battling dark creatures and evil tyrants, Potter had filled out and his hair had tamed into something decidedly sexy.

He grabbed a pair of black robes, which Harry immediately plucked out of his hands.

"You'll look washed out if you wear black. Besides, you're going to a muggle restaurant. You would look stupid in a dress."

"Harry, I don't think this is a good idea. I hate blind dates. What if he's ugly? What if he's prettier than me?"

Harry stilled and took a moment to look straight ahead before beginning to rummage around in Draco's wardrobe. At one point, he had given the blonde a light blue muggle shirt as a present. He hoped Draco had kept it.

"Are you ignoring me?"

"Draco, I've been ignoring you for the last eleven years. I don't know why you think I would stop now."

Draco huffed and returned to his hair.

"I don't know what you're so worried about. Mione will be there. She can help bail you out if he turns into a mistake. Really though, you should trust my taste. He's perfect for you."

Taking out the blue shirt, he tossed it to the blonde followed by a pair of deep brown trousers. Draco buttoned the shirt up, gasping in surprise.

"Look at my eyes! When did you get so good with colors Potter? I thought I was the more fashionable of the group."

"When I came out as gay. I remember everything a certain someone said when he dragged me through a fashion tutorial. Just sit still for a minute."

Harry swept his hand through Draco's hair, ruffling it up a bit. Draco stared at the affects before tweaking it a bit.

"What did you do?"

"I made it look like mine." Harry smiled cheekily and put on his jacket.

"Ill be correcting second year homework assignments in my office if you need me."

"Alright." Draco said, still playing with his look. "One last thing, why are we going to a muggle restaurant?"

Harry hesitated before responding. He opened the door so he could make a quick get away.

"Well Hermione's date is that muggle from her coffee shop. It will make him feel better. Oh, and so is yours."

"Mine is what?"

"He's a muggle."

Harry left before Draco could recover from the surprise.

...

Harry glanced at the clock and stretched. It was eleven and Draco hadn't come storming into his office. Obviously the date was going well. He had no doubt he would hear details about it tomorrow. Ignoring the jealousy that ultimately stemmed from Astyr's death and would likely send him to tears, Harry started on his sixth year assignments. He didn't want to go to bed just yet.

...

"So how is Harry? I only met him briefly in a bar. I wasn't expecting to get a date out of it, though. Well I might have been but this wasn't what I originally had in mind."

Draco took a sip of water, amusement and excitement spiking through him. He really liked this guy, David. Harry had chosen well.

He then replied, "Oh he's probably moping."

"Poor Harry. He lost the love of his life." Hermione explained.

"She died? That's dreadful." David sounded sincere.

His voice seemed to send shivers up Draco's spine. He scoffed mentally at his own attitude but couldn't help feeling gooey when David looked at him.

Everyone at the table was slightly tipsy. They were sharing a few bottles of wine and no one looked inclined to leave. Hermione was even holding hands with her date, blushing at Draco's looks.

"Yes, he died. We never even got to meet him. Harry was completely in love with him, though."

"Did he leave anything behind for him?"

Draco nodded, "Oh yes. There was a red statue that Harry always had with him. It was a flying cat. Apparently it was magical because Harry said that the moment Astyr died, the thing disintegrated."

Hermione looked at Draco, puzzled.

"I didn't know about that."

"Yea. He only said so the day after. He hasn't come out of his shell since."

"Magical?" Hermione's date asked.

Exchanging looks, the other three hurried to change the subject. Everyone was having a good time and no one wanted to mess it up with pesky little secrets. Magic would have to wait.

...

A/N I'm sorry about the awkwardness of this chapter. Ive tried to fix it but im unsure as to whether ive succeeded. I shouldn't have introduced so many new things this late in the game. I'd like to point out that I seem to be developing subplots on accident. Goblins and David: not supposed to happen. The goblins so far have no purpose in my mind other than getting Astyr money. David has somehow become important in my view of the future. I'm just afraid that Astyr is going to find Harry too soon and I wont be able to play my David card (only because then the story will probably end and David will no longer exist, not because David gets between them or anything). That's another thing! I can't decide whether I'll end the fic with Astyr and Harry reuniting or whether it will continue. Obviously there is the open-ended assassin to deal with, too. Wouldn't you hate me if I had Astyr assassinated right when he and Harry see each other? Decisions decisions.

I'm also concerned that the tone has changed dramatically and I'm losing readers. I feel like this is my third act, you know? The first was the meeting and it set the tone and everything was honky dory or whatever. And then the second act was when Astyr left Haven and a new mystery was introduced. Things got a little darker and suddenly there was this huge transition into the final act where everyone thinks Astyr is dead and everything looks and feels really dreary and awful. I also feel like I'm explaining too much in this final act and I'm not milking the emotion. I don't want anyone to stop reading because I've changed the feel and therefore target audience.

Also, I have to apologize for not writing Astyr's reaction to Diagon Alley or his meeting with the goblin king. I just don't think I could pull it off very well. I mean, I could do it… But it would be a whole lot of emotion pulling that really isn't necessary. Plus, I already had Astyr talking to a disembodied voice (which I usually don't like in fics) and I think the whole conversation with a goblin king would be pushing it. I don't know about you, but I find the idea of goblins and goblin kings completely ridiculous. Again, I shouldn't complain as I am the one writing it.

Tell me what you think.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

A/N I modified the last chapter so hopefully it flows a bit better. Cheers.

Chapter 21

...

Harry schooled his face, appearing impassive to everyone around him. It was his job to make sure the students got safely onto the Hogwarts Express. They were going home for the holidays but they needed a chaperone to accompany them to the train station. Luckily, word hadn't gotten out to the populace in Hogsmede or else the whole town would be upon them. As it is, Harry was anticipating his escape onto school grounds, nervously glancing down the street.

The students were rowdy from excitement about the holidays. Harry had already received six gifts from well wishing students. He tried to remember if he or anyone else ever gave his professors presents and failed. The gifts were not terribly spectacular and the majority were books on defense. Harry had no interest in them so he forwarded them on to Hermione. She was always looking for more books.

He stopped brooding long enough to break up a group of students throwing exploding snap cards at each other. It didn't take much to send them running. Harry wondered how afraid of him the students really were before he dismissed it. If his calm and collected demeanor in class wasn't enough to convince them that he wasn't going to blow them up, nothing would.

"All aboard?" Harry called, letting his voice travel down the platform.

If there were any students left, they would hear him. He had become good at shouting out orders over long distances and knew how to carry his voice.

Harry tapped the train lightly, signaling that it was set to go. The large vehicle began to move. Students poked their heads out the windows and shouted out goodbyes to their professor.

"Happy Holidays!"

"See you soon!"

"Have a good one, Professor!"

Harry only waved them off. He wasn't feeling very jolly about the encroaching holidays. He anticipated getting back to work in two weeks. He wasn't sure what he would do until then. He didn't really want to think about it. As he walked back up to the castle, Harry tried to think of what he would give his friends. Fate wasn't planning on returning from his stay with Remus for another two months. Remus wasn't planning on leaving either. Harry didn't know if they would appreciate Christmas gifts from him without him physically there to give them away. He decided they would have to deal with it. He didn't want to return to that world. They would understand.

Draco and Hermione were easy to please. Another five shirts in colors that went well with his eyes and hair were Harry's gift to Draco. Hermione would receive a packet of massage oils and aromatherapy candles. She was far too stressed from her job. She could use a break. Harry briefly wondered if her new boyfriend, Jason would be helping her use that particular gift. He also wondered if she would tell him that the relaxing and tingling feeling that the ointment gave off was magical.

Probably they weren't at that stage yet. He and Hermione had only just gone on a first date. Draco and Harry's new acquaintance had accompanied them. Just that morning Draco had been gushing about his new love interest. He didn't seem to stop nattering. It was all David this and David that. Harry took pleasure in watching Draco be less than condescending for once.

Harry had a very Slytherin idea regarding the couples. He wanted to wait until everything was more serious before he suggested it, but Harry thought it would be the perfect way to get wizards to accept muggles. If both the minister of magic and the general of DON were dating muggles, the scandal would be like a cold shower for the wizarding populace. Harry himself would have started dating a muggle if he knew it wouldn't be a lie. He didn't want to lead anyone on like that and he knew his heart wouldn't be in it.

Harry knew with a shocking clarity that he would never love anyone again. He knew he would never be able to enjoy someone else's presence and he couldn't even feel attracted to anyone at all. He was slowly resigning himself to solitude.

...

Astyr nodded eagerly to the woman behind the counter. She began to scoop the strange food into a cone shaped wafer. Astyr was ecstatic about the interesting desert. A little boy in the street was begging to come in and have some so he knew it must be very good. He happily paid for it by handing over a gold coin. The woman looked surprised before shaking her head and smiling.

"Muggleborn, dear?"

Astyr shook his head.

"I'm an American."

He didn't know what an American was but the lie seemed to be universally helpful. He didn't know why he even had to lie here. Even pretending to be a normal guy wasn't enough of a lie for these people.

"Oh. Well welcome to Diagon Alley. This is a galleon. I need two sickles. Sickles are the silver ones, dear."

He grabbed two silver coins and held them out, exchanging them for the galleon.

"You must really like ice cream. It's the middle of the winter, you know?"

Astyr could only nod. He hadn't ever had it before but he didn't doubt that he loved it. He didn't know why the season had anything to do with it.

The goblins had been cordial after his demonstration and surprisingly, Astyr and the Goblin King hit it off right away. In one of the most bizarre moments of Asty's life, he made friends with the little green goblin and told him his story. The king had been a bit surprised at how close Astyr was to Harry but he didn't disbelieve the prince. After he was done, they both speculated about what he would do. Astyr was surprised when the goblin told him that Harry was working at Hogwarts. He was only just realizing how close he was to his love. He'd asked for details, which the goblins happily provided. Unfortunately, since the train was restricted and all other forms of transport were carefully monitored, there was no way Astyr could get into the school and he left the bank with a bag full of money but without any solutions.

Astyr took the cone out of the woman's hands and walked out into the alley. He looked around and wondered where to go from there. He would need a place for the night and some time to think as he tried to figure out how to get into the school. Deciding that the Leaky Cauldron was his best bet, Astyr took a bite of his ice cream.

He didn't realize how cold it was until his teeth were already deep into the stuff. He drew away, trying to swallow as fast as possible. His eyes winced shut and his shoulders drew up as he tried not to spit it out. When the pain went away, he eyed his dissert warily. Carefully he licked it and smiled at the taste. He liked ice cream, however slowly he must eat it.

Once he was finished and cleaned up, Astyr walked the length of the alley, intent on the pub at the end. As he passed two women, he slowed at their conversation. They were talking about Hogwarts.

"Oh yes, my daughter came home for Christmas a few days ago. She just would not stop talking about Professor Potter! I don't really blame her. He is the most qualified teacher of the lot."

"Well of course he's qualified. There isn't a soul more qualified. We should have him teaching our aurors, not our children."

"Oh come off it, Matilda. You're just jealous because your son is training to be an auror and isn't getting instruction from the Boy Who Defeated The Dark Lord."

"Maybe. Well, when does she go back to school? Maybe I can ride along and meet him, eh?"

"Goodness, no. I would have done it already if I could. They don't let anyone on the express without a Hogwarts letter or uniform. I don't think either of us could pass off as seventeen year olds, do you? Anyway, the train leaves on the second. You'll be there to see her off, wont you?"

Astyr didn't wait to hear the rest of the conversation. He knew how he was going to get to Hogwarts.

...

"I've been doing some research."

Draco started laughing. Hermione was startled into looking up at the blonde. His feet were back up on her desk and his head was thrown back. He was clutching at the arms of his chair and his chest shook from his glee.

"I fail to see what's so funny."

Draco shook his head, sighing as his chuckles ran out.

"I think I'm a little moody. But that was still hilarious. Honestly, Mione. The day you don't research something is the day after you die. And, I suppose, everyday after that until you're reincarnated or come back as a ghost. Or maybe they have libraries in the underworld."

Hermione waited for him to finish. He noticed her expression and shrugged.

"I went a little far on that one, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did. What's got you in a twist?"

"Oh, I'm just a little high on life. I also have a date with David tonight and I'm really nervous."

"It's Christmas eve. Shouldn't you be spending that time on something other than a second date? Shouldn't he?"

Draco frowned and gestured around the room.

"Well I don't see your family around anywhere. Let me guess, going out with Jason again, right?"

Hermione blushed. "Well, we have known each other longer. Besides, you didn't answer my question."

"Neither of us really have anywhere else to be. Forgive me if I don't visit my father in Azkaban. The only other person I would be celebrating with (discounting you of course) is currently not in any place to be enjoying himself or anyone else for that matter. I think that the less pomp to Harry's holiday, the better off he'll be."

"I guess I'll agree with you there." She tilted her head as a thought came to her. "Did you and Harry ever, well, you know, hook up?"

Draco looked amused and nodded. Hermione widened her eyes and demanded, "Spill."

"Ok but don't tell Harry I told you. It was right after Ron died. You were kind of out of it."

Hermione nodded, listening.

"He just wanted a release from it all, you know? I was trying to get back at my father. We were drinking since noon and come nighttime, we were still going strong. And then, you know…" Hermione laughed and waved him on, "The next morning, we woke up completely entwined. We started shrieking at each other. Well…I was shrieking and he was laughing. But I could tell he was as horrified as I was. I mean, ew. Potter was my piece of ass for the night. It was disturbing. The thing is, neither of us remembers it clearly. I wish I could make fun of him for it but I'm about as embarrassed as he is."

Hermione didn't look like she was going to stop laughing. Draco decided to steer her out of it.

"So what were you researching?"

She was really easily distracted by that kind of thing.

"Oh. Well. You know that statue you talked about? He said it disintegrated when Astyr died, right?"

"Right."

"Well I think that was a physical manifestation of the bond. I did some research and I came up with a really peculiar thing called a heartbond."

Draco nodded, interested.

"When a heart bond is created, the initiator creates a ruby which sort of represents all of the love the two have for each other. That is the most interesting part, actually. Though the initiator creates it, the other has to love or have loved the initiator in order for it to work. There's actually a really interesting example of it in mythology involving the Lady of Death…"

"So this caused the dreams?" Draco cut in before she could start nattering.

"Yes it did. The heartbond draws the two hearts together and literally gives control of each to the other."

"Wait, back up. Rewind, repeat."

"Harry and Astyr loved each other so much, they traded hearts."

Draco drew his feet off the desk. He looked very sad all of a sudden.

"Oh Merlin. This is worse than we thought."

Hermione nodded.

"He lost his heart."

...

Harry slept in on Christmas morning. He didn't open his presents until mid-afternoon. He took a new bottle of scotch to his office where he started creating a syllabus for next year. He didn't finish that project, though he did finish the bottle.

Draco woke to find himself in a muggle apartment. He was disappointed that he was sleeping on the couch but not as much as he thought he would be. They had agreed to take it slow. He thought he was in it for the long haul. The concept was scary but the aroma of newly made pancakes was not.

Hermione opened her presents quietly, alone in her own apartment. She twisted the silver chain Jason had given her the night before. Feeling a bit lonely, Hermione grabbed her telephone. Her parents would be happy to hear from her. It was Christmas after all.

The New Year passed without much fanfare. Draco kept Harry company and Hermione worked late into the night on an urgent problem that the ministry had to address. Michael Evans sent out a flier illustrating the different festivities muggles were participating all around the world. The New Year ball in New York descended a thousand times in each and every European wizarding home that night.

The students returned on the second.

...

Astyr felt lost in his bulky robes. He had easily acquired Hogwarts standard issue from Madam Malkin's. The Gryffindor badge on his chest was itchy from the inside and, all in all, he felt very stupid. He had arrived at King's Cross station thinking that the Hogwart's Express would be on one of the normal platforms. Obviously he hadn't been thinking clearly. Now that he was here, he was beginning to panic. He knew the train was scheduled to leave at eleven but if he couldn't even find it, he didn't think he would be going anywhere.

It was ten thirty and he still had to steal someone's Hogwarts letter and duplicate it. He scratched anxiously at his chest. Looking around, Astyr finally spotted a young man putting on a black robe. He followed the man as he headed for platform nine. Astyr was surprised when the man very suddenly disappeared. He ran over to the spot, carefully looking at the ground and benches nearby.

He allowed his animagus eyes to come forward and took a step back in shock. He wasn't a Rune Master for nothing and his animagus animal reflected that. Libras were especially good at finding and focusing in on rune magic. They naturally had runic patterns in their fur and feathers. The brightness of the runes in front of him hurt his libra's eyes and he had to retract them. Looking closely with a less magically powered sight, Astyr saw the runes that made up the barrier between platforms nine and ten.

He quickly drew a diagnostic rune, asking for activation of the runic equation on the wall. The power slid through its series and Astyr discovered what it was. It was very simply designed and almost primitive in style but the result was decent and worked well enough. He happily stepped through the gate and onto the platform. A huge purple steam engine waited to his right. Up and down the platform black robed children scurried about, laughing and saying goodbye to their families.

Astyr was impressed. There are so many wizards, he thought as he gazed on them. There are so many all in one place. Each one of them can perform a million miracles. Each one is precious. Astyr walked in and among the students. No one noticed him. He was trying to blend in. Harry had been right; he was very good at this sort of thing.

Astyr saw some official looking wizards standing at each entrance to the train. As each child hugged their parents goodbye, he or she stepped up and handed a piece of paper to the blue-clad wizards. They looked the paper over, passed it back, and let the child by. Astyr watched as lines were forming at each entrance. He looked around for someone who wasn't holding the documents in hand. He needed to steal them in order to make a copy.

Spotting a very chatty woman towards the back of the crowd, Astyr crept over.

"I can't even believe he got a broom for Christmas. I mean, how stupid do you have to be to give a Crabbe a broom? He will likely lose it, the klutz."

She was waving her arms at each point emphasizing her statements to her companions. She didn't notice when her pockets were searched and she lost her ticket onto the train.

Astyr quickly took the papers over to the far wall, hoping no one would see. He drew a duplicating rune and was satisfied to see the paper shiver apart into two identical pieces. He didn't even read the letter as he dashed back to the young girl. Amazingly, she hadn't noticed his slip and he returned her copy to where he'd found it.

Approaching the officials, Astyr began to feel nervous for the first time. Would they stop him? Were his duplications up to par? He handed over his letter with baited breath, waiting for the man to call him out. The official frowned as he looked down at the papers. He was just about to hand them back when he drew up short.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts, Ms. Greene." He said pointedly.

Astyr internally winced. Time for some improvisation.

"That's Mr. Greene, idiot."

He was taking a chance. The girl he'd stolen the documents had been very full of herself. It only stands to reason that her impersonator be the same.

"Then why is this letter addressed to a Ms. Delilah Greene?" the man waved the paper in Astyr's face.

Astyr took it back, frowning. He looked it over and then glanced up.

"This is my sister's. She must have mine. I can't believe her! I mean, I know she wants to be me but you'd think she had a little class."

"I'm sorry sir but you can't get on the train without your letter."

Astyr drew himself up, taking a deep breath and glowering angrily.

"Do you know who I am? Do you know to whom you are speaking?"

The man stuttered.

"You must be a mudblood, then. You can't possibly not know."

Astyr didn't know what a mudblood was. He'd been called that a lot over the last week. He usually went for his American excuse when that happened.

"I…I…"

The man looked a little frightened. He obviously had no idea who Astyr was and how much power he held. Unfortunately, neither did Astyr. He barely made it through the next sentence convincingly as he was making it up on the spot.

"I could have my father dismiss you in a word. If you don't let me and my sister onto this train because we've bloody switched papers, I'll have you arrested."

That seemed general enough. Apparently the official thought so too because he let Astyr on without another word.

Triumphant, Astyr grabbed a compartment and sat down. He'd heard it was a long journey.

...

"Hello. Can we sit here? The rest is full."

Astyr nodded to the young girl who asked. She smiled and walked in, trailed by two boys. After them, three large pieces of floating luggage entered and settled themselves on the racks. Astyr contained his shock well. He still wasn't used to such displays of power.

"I'm Candy. This is Josh and Eric. We're sixth years. I've never seen you around."

"I don't like attention." Astyr said quietly.

"Oh. Well then, what's your name?"

"Astyr. I'm a seventh year."

"Did you have a good holiday?"

"Holiday?"

The girl smiled slowly, "Yea."

Astyr nodded mutely. Apparently that was what 'Christmas' was, a holiday. Other worlds are weird, he decided.

Eric and Josh took out some paper and began talking quietly in the corner. Candy flashed them a longing look before turning back to Astyr.

"So. Astyr. That's an unusual name."

Astyr wondered why his name was so often the topic of idle conversation. He looked at Candy closely, unsure of what to say. He didn't care about his name anymore, truly he didn't.

"So is Candy."

He finally settled it. If he had to talk, it wouldn't be about his name.

"So it is." She agreed, looking back at her friends. They ignored her plight.

"What do you think of Professor Potter?" She asked suddenly.

She was looking at him in interest. Apparently Harry is a popular conversational topic as well. Astyr didn't have anything against that, though. He was in love with him after all.

"He's nice. He's funny and nice."

Candy laughed, "Funny? Maybe he is in an ironic sense. I can't think of anyone with a worse sense of humor."

"Really?" Astyr asked in confusion. Maybe they weren't talking about the same person.

"He has to be the most calm and polite person I've ever met. I guess war will do that to you, right? My mom still shivers at his name you know. Professor Potter said to use his name but my mother wont let me."

Astyr ignored half of that statement. It didn't make any sense to him. The first part was worrying. Harry wasn't calm or polite. He was devious and tricky. He was mischievous and fun loving. He was in your face and laugh out loud funny. Astyr's mood descended as he heard more about him from Candy. She had a crush on him and enjoyed prattling on about it. From the looks her friends shot her, they were sick of it and ready to mutiny. Astyr let her say what she liked, hoping that Harry was ok.

...

"If you're so interested, why don't you talk to Gary? He was there for most of it, remember."

Hermione nodded, playing with a quill.

"It's just, heartbonds are rare. This is a great opportunity to research one. I mean, the dreams are never adequately described in the books. Some don't even mention it at all. I want to know how he died so I can determine exactly when the bond cut off."

"He fell down a volcano shaft. What more is there to know?"

Hermione shot him a dirty look. And shoved his newly situated boots off her desk.

"Maybe there's something Harry didn't mention. A bright white flash or something might have accompanied the break."

Draco shrugged.

"Just don't go asking Harry about it. He has his emotions low enough on a daily basis without us reminding him why."

"Us?"

Hermione looked at him over the quill end, eyes crinkling.

"Well yes, us. I have a right to be interested don't I?

Hermione agreed. She sat up in her chair and took out a fresh piece of parchment.

"Help me write a letter to Gary. It has to be as accurate as possible so we need to phrase the right questions."

Draco sighed and put his legs up again. He hadn't realized he would have to work for it.

...

Ok So I realize that the whole Draco and Hermione conversation thing makes the whole story look a little more clichéd than it might otherwise look. I just wanted to make the whole thing BLATANTLY CLEAR and not confuse anyone. I also didn't want to explain the heartbond in an author's note because that seems a little tacky in this particular instance. I feel like the story wouldn't be adequate if I have to explain it away. I may as well make my authors notes into the story instead.

Is it just me or am I really beginning to rely on conversations?


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

A/N I modified the last chapter so hopefully it flows a little bit better. There aren't any huge changes so don't worry.

Someone pointed out to me that I should have had Astyr send Harry a letter. I will admit that this is a failure on my part and a hole in my plot. This is the message I sent back to that person.

_Hello and thanks for reviewing,_

_So there are few flimsy reasons why Astyr doesn't send a message. The most obvious is that while Astyr isn't stupid, I definitely am because it didn't really occur to ME to send a message. A typical case of me being off in my own little world, I know. After thinking about it, I know why it never occurred to me. If I were in Astyr's position, I wouldn't send one._

_Astyr is working under the assumption that Harry has been in his own world for all of this time. He doesn't realize that he is supposedly dead and all he knows is that the bond they had was severed when he jumped worlds. His goal is to be physically near Harry because before now they have been interacting in dreams. A big part of my fic is the fine line between dream/reality. And we should keep in mind that Astyr is NOT desperate. Harry is desperate, but Astyr just misses him. It's like showing up at your boyfriend's house in another world unannounced._

_Also, when people get into situations that are over their heads where they cant understand what is going on (like culture shock in a completely different world), the most probable pathway to their thoughts is simple and linear. They choose a goal and try to reach that goal. Ultimately Astyr's goal is to go to Harry. It isn't to contact Harry but to actually take himself to his love's side. I realize that he could send a letter to Harry in order to get him to meet in a specified place but in Astyr's mind, HE must get to Harry who is in an unknown place in an unknown world. _

_To answer your question, no there are no instant messaging systems in Astyr's world. With all the new sensory information coming his way, Astyr is probably not going to start assuming that everything is different but rather he will cling to similarities with his own home. He doesn't assume that humans can fly because in his home world, human can't fly. So if it comes down to a human messenger, If Astyr can't get to Hogwarts, neither can another person delivering a message. And would Harry ever believe a handwritten message? That would add to the length of my story if Astyr tries that and it doesn't pan out. They need to get together now, not skirt around each other with letters. Plus, in this world Harry is too famous and there is no way an unknown letter could reach him, owl or otherwise (not that Astyr knows that)._

_And ultimately the best reason that this doesn't occur to him is because there is a really short amount of time between when he leaves the bank and finds a solution to his problem. He finds a way to Hogwarts literally within the day as you will see in this next chapter (if you read it). Usually I hate it when fics heighten drama by conveniently skipping a few natural laws or common sense. I always stop reading so I wouldn't be surprised if you do. _

_And you are entirely right; I am trying to heighten drama. _

_You have brought up a valid point and I am going to post this PM with the next chapter. Obviously it doesn't fix the hole in my fic. I'm sorry that it is like that. Thanks for your input._

_Thank you for reviewing,_

_Wizz._

_P.S. Purple trains make more sense to me. I honestly have always thought of it as purplish pink. That is entirely wrong, of course. Next time I repost the chapter, Ill fix it. cheers._

Chapter 22

...

Astyr smiled delightedly when he saw the thestrals. He walked right up to two of them and started crooning. He stroked their cheeks and murmured to them about his day. Some students who had never seen death before ignored him. For the most part though, these children were just coming out of the second war and they stared at his boldness. The creatures were frightening and no one ever went near them.

Thestrals are intelligent enough to appreciate it when a human comes to speak with them. Astyr was telling them about his adventures and they enjoyed it. Other thestrals down the line of carriages looked back in longing, wishing the nice human would come to them. Most of the children were shocked at how much they adored Astyr. Slowly, those who had stopped to watch entered the carriages. Astyr was left alone with the empty coche that his thestrals were hitched to. As the line began to move he broke out of his reverie and scrambled to get into a seat before his thestrals took off.

Watching out the window, Astyr was awed to see Hogwarts up on its hill. He had seen it many times before in the dreamscapes but here it was real. Here he was about to enter the magnificent building on his own. The walls drew larger and larger and soon they drew up in front of large double doors that boomed open as the children approached.

Everyone was very loud as they entered and large groups split away in tides.

"I'll meet you at dinner later!" Candy called to her friends who were going in a different direction.

"I'm not going. I don't feel up to it tonight!" Josh called across.

"I'll be there!" Eric yelled too.

Astyr was swept with a group going upwards. He ascended the stairs, looking around him discretely. He didn't know where Harry was but he wished that he were here now. He didn't know where he was going or what he was doing. He noticed that everyone around him was a Gryffindor. He was glad that he blended in well enough. As they went down a corridor, Astyr watched the paintings wave and call out greetings. He watched the kids as they swarmed in groups. Soon, very soon, they would call him out. There weren't enough people here that he could remain anonymous.

He tried to extract himself from the press but gave it up as a bad job. He moved through them, trying to find out where they were going. It didn't take very long after that. He was swept up the steps and into the common room. Astyr recognized this place as well. There was only one fundamental difference between Harry's memory and the real thing. In Harry's memory, there was a portrait of Albus Dumbledore above the fire, his eyes twinkling over all. Here, there was a portrait of Harry.

He stood with his arms crossed and his face impassive. He shifted his weight regularly from foot to foot. He didn't talk or breathe loudly at all. He looked around the room, wary of danger. The students separated again into groups. The boys headed right and the girls headed left. For an interval, Astyr was left alone with Harry's painting.

"You are not a Gryffindor." Harry's dangerous tone made Astyr smile

In any other context, he couldn't have smiled in the face of that, but now he was just glad to hear his voice.

"No. I'm looking for you." He paused. "The real you."

"Oh? Am I here?"

Astyr was taken aback and nodded.

"You teach defense."

"Ah. I wonder why I don't visit me. Though I suppose I don't even realize I was painted. I was illegally done, you know."

The painting looked down at a palm before turning back to Astyr.

"Why are you looking for me?"

"I love you." His smile was wry as he said it.

Harry looked surprised but was prevented from responding as two students flew down the boy's side, laughing and chasing each other. They disappeared out the common room entrance.

Astyr, wary of discovery, left as well. He exchanged a discrete smile with Harry's portrait and entered the corridor, following the sound of the laughing children.

...

Astyr sat at the Gryffindor table and ate quickly. The longer he stayed, the more likely he was to be labeled as an imposter. When he'd first entered the Great Hall, he'd expected to see Harry at the head table. It became obvious as dinner progressed and more students began arriving, that Harry wasn't coming to eat. There was a single chair left unoccupied and everyone around him was talking about it. They wished their favorite professor had attended so that they could get a look at him. It had been a while since they'd seen him after all. Astyr was disappointed but resolved not to worry. He would find him soon enough.

He left the Hall and walked a short distance away. He opened a random door and found a classroom. He settled himself there, yawning. When it got late, Astyr would sneak back into the Gryffindor common room. He could sleep on the couches and wake early. None of the students need know he was even there.

...

Astyr skipped breakfast, hiding in his classroom. He didn't know if Harry would be there this time and it seemed like having the daylight from the enchanted ceiling show his face would reveal him before he could find the man. He knew Harry would be teaching in the defense room and, after some snooping after hours, he'd found the correct route to the place. All he had to do was wait until class started. It was the best way of predicting where Harry would be.

After the last of the first period bells sounded, Astyr walked towards the defense classroom. He wondered what he would say or how he would react. He was almost afraid Harry would yell at him for interrupting class. He rubbed at his chest and didn't notice when a cat walked by him. He did notice however, when a hand grabbed his robes and yanked him forward.

In front of him was a wrinkled and hunched old man. He snarled into Astyr's face, which had stretched in alarm.

"What have we here? A seventh year walking about after the bell has rung? Tut tut. Detention with me tonight, boy. Now where are you supposed to be, hmm?"

"Uh…"

Astyr looked to the side, wondering how he would get out of this.

"Ah! Look at this! A symbol around your neck, how quaint. You must be part of the Newt Ancient Runes class. Follow me."

At that, the old man turned and stomped away. Unless he wanted to cross the old man, Astyr was forced to follow.

...

After many turning staircases and more corridors than Astyr could count, the old man stopped in front of a door with the label 'Ancient Runes' above it.

"In you get!"

Astyr hesitantly opened the door. No one paid any attention. They were all engrossed in whispering to each other as the professor in the front of the room began to write on a board. Looking back to the glaring countenance of the old man, Astyr decided to take a seat. He went to the back, hiding professionally behind an overweight boy with brown hair.

"Now." The female professor's voice was commanding, silencing the muttering seventeen-year olds. "We left off at combining runes. Can anyone tell me why this is so hard to do? Yes, you there."

"Two original runes have their own basic structure and the combination has to connect them without losing their value."

"Good. Five points to Ravenclaw."

"Now who can tell me exactly how to combine a fire rune with a rune of specific movement? Anyone? No? To begin, we must determine the projection of movement using arithmacy…"

Astyr was astonished. This was the most advanced class for runes? They were only just now learning to combine runes! There wasn't any purpose to runes if you didn't know how to combine them! The only things you could do were draw protections or luck charms. This was unbelievable.

Astyr pursed his lips as the lecture continued. This drivel wasn't worth listening to. He soon became very bored. He put his head in his arms, he played with his robe sleeve, and he mentally mocked the professor. Soon however, he couldn't continue to do nothing. Carefully moving so that the professor had no way of seeing him, Astyr began drawing a complicated rune circle. He wanted to send a slap in the face to the runes professor. Maybe she would begin to respect her students if they outdid themselves. Absently, Astyr wondered when they learned practical rune application.

The runes he used were difficult and it had taken him a long time to learn them. They had given him his mastery for drawing circles like the one he did now. This complex structure was the type he'd used on the grounding stones that kept Fray afloat.

Part of his aim was subtlety so he drew the runes without the flare of power that usually flashed through each rune of a circle. He made the circle small and settled it on top of his desk. Drawing from his core, Astyr waited to release the tension of the active runes until the bell signaled for the next class. The students began to move, collecting their things and standing up. Finishing it quickly, Astyr nearly laughed and gave himself away. All around the room, objects were taking flight. Anything any person was touching stayed grounded but that left inkwells, the ink inside the inkwells, chairs, tables, the contents of the professor's desk and more. The edges of the room darkened with a strange atmosphere that seemed to reflect the night sky within its depths. A very slight breeze and a cooling mist gave the room a calming and out of doors atmosphere. The professor was shocked by the floating objects and put her hand on her desk. The large piece of furniture settled down to the ground. When she pulled her hand away, it shot up again. Students were standing around, awed by the display. Many cast 'finite' at the objects and the darkness but to no avail.

The professor drew a magic-dispelling rune in front of her. It did nothing. His circle was there to stay. Astyr wondered what they would do with the classroom now that it permanently de-gravitated things. He wondered how long it would take for someone to notice the rune circle burned in the air above where his table used to be. It didn't really matter, he thought as he slipped out the door. They shouldn't have underestimated him.

...

Astyr turned around and around. It was well past the last of the second period bells and Astyr was completely lost. He didn't know how to get from the runes classroom to the Great Hall much less the defense classroom. He peered into paintings and asked some of them for directions. They never really helped. He eventually made it to the Great Hall where he sorted himself out.

Finally deciding to hell with the itchy robe, Astyr deposited it next to the Gryffindor table. The Hall was silent like it had been in his dreams. The idea appealed to him.

Feeling light, Astyr quickly made his way up to the upper levels of Hogwarts. He came to a halt just down the hall from the defense room. He wished he had a mirror as he ran a hand through his hair and checked his breath. He tugged at his clothes and felt altogether foolish. He was wearing gray-blue jeans and a white tunic. The collar and cuffs were rimmed with gold and Astyr thought he looked somewhat princely. He did want to impress Harry and thought the detail was appealing. Now though, he had to question his own judgment. Did he look too gaudy or pompous? He composed himself and strode down the corridor.

The defense room's door was open and Astyr could see right inside. There, half sitting on the professor's desk was Harry. He was looking at his students and listening as someone spoke. His skin was pale and his eyes were sharp. He seemed to take everything in at a glance. His robes were slung over a chair behind the desk and he wore simple trousers and a blue button down shirt. Slight shadows under his eyes belied his state of mind. Despite that, he was entirely cold and professional as he taught. He didn't notice the prince standing at his door.

...

"So Gary says Astyr died before he even fell." Hermione said, looking up as Draco entered.

"Oh? How did he die?"

"He touched something called the Ruby of Death. It's strange, but I think I've heard of it before."

"Let me guess, it kills you when you touch it."

"Honestly Draco, can you be more callous?"

Draco adopted a grin and sat in the chair across the desk from Hermione. He swung his feet up before replying.

"Probably. So he touched this Ruby, died, and the heartbond broke when his spirit left his body."

Hermione was looking troubled. Draco waited patiently. She had on her 'I'm on to something' expression and he knew it was only a matter of time before something disgustingly brilliant popped out of her mouth.

"He gave his heart to Harry as a ruby. He touched the Ruby of Death and died. That just doesn't make any sense. The Ruby of Death…is a heartbond."

Draco listened to her muttering with interest. She didn't usually think out loud but this was obviously an issue of thinking three dimensionally. It helped to have a verbal outline. It also helped Draco eavesdrop.

"The Ruby of Death…Oh, Draco! The Ruby of Death is the Lady of Death's heartbond!"

Draco looked confused. "What?" His statement confirmed it.

Hermione explained.

"The Lady of Death is the woman who chooses when a person dies in ancient mythology. She is the first source on heartbonds in all recorded history. She tried to make a heartbond with a dead demon. He was dead and he couldn't very well take her heart from her nor she his. Her heart is incomplete. It absorbs every heart that comes into contact with it, killing the person instantly. It tries to complete itself but a human heart is never enough."

"Well. I guess its like two halves of a whole. She will never be whole. How sad…"

Hermione nodded her agreement. She pushed his feet off her desk and looked thoughtful.

Draco continued, "So Astyr touched the heart bond, it absorbed his heart, and he died."

She shook her head.

"Impossible."

Draco frowned.

"Why? He died."

"No. Or at least, he didn't die from the Ruby of Death. You see, Astyr didn't have his heart. Harry has his heart. Astyr couldn't have died because the Ruby couldn't take it."

"So Astyr died in the volcano? That was the original theory, you know."

Hermione looked stumped.

"He couldn't have….could he? Whoever has the Lady of Death's Ruby, literally has her heart. I don't think anyone who has it and doesn't die from it can die from anything else. He would have complete control over her. She has control over death itself."

Draco sat up in his chair.

"So what are you saying, Mione? Are you saying Astyr is alive? What about the heartbond? How did it break?"

Hermione's eyes were darting back and forth as she thought rapidly.

"It's a bond, Draco. How do bonds break?"

Draco answered promptly, remembering his mind magic research.

"The soul leaves the body and the world."

"His soul…left his body and the world."

Draco sighed in exasperation.

"But he couldn't die, right? Leverage on the Lady of Death and everything."

Hermione rubbed her head.

"Well if his soul left his body and his world, maybe he went to another world."

Draco leaned forward, looking intently at Hermione.

"Where is he?"

...

Astyr leaned against the doorjamb, waiting to be discovered. Harry hadn't noticed him because he wasn't in his direct line of sight. He would have to turn his head to see the door. None of the third year students seemed to notice him either. They were all too intent on what Harry was saying.

"While we are on the subject of fear, can anyone tell me what a boggart is? Yes, Ms. Davis."

"A boggart is a magical creature that takes on the shape of what one fears most of all."

"Good, two points to Slytherin. What do you think is the best way to face one's fears?"

"To confront them."

"Ah, good answer. We must always confront our fears before moving forward. To counter a boggart, we must confront our greatest fear and laugh in its face. I will let you in on a secret." Harry's conspiratorial tone caused his students to lean in closer. "My greatest fear of all is… a dementor."

Several people shuddered and one boy looked slightly green. A girl towards the front raised her hand.

"Go ahead."

"Professor, why aren't you afraid of V-Voldemort?"

Harry nodded.

"It's a very good question. I was always afraid of Voldemort but he was not my greatest fear. You see, he was my enemy and we had a closer relationship than that kind of fear would allow. I'm not afraid of dementors because they are skeletal and frightening to see. I am afraid of dementors because I am afraid of losing everyone I've ever loved, every worthy memory I've ever had, and every good feeling I have ever possessed. That, my friends, is the most valuable thing you will ever find in this short life: happiness. I am afraid that I will lose it all…permanently."

Astyr figured this was as good a time as any to interrupt. He didn't think he could keep to himself much longer even if he tried.

"Well said."

It was quietly uttered but everyone heard it in the aftermath of Harry's speech. Astyr ignored the curious looks from students, intent on Harry's reaction. The man had stilled, moving not at all. His head was bowed down slightly and his hand clenched at the side of the desk. He didn't look to Astyr standing to the left of him. He only tilted his head up to looked at the students. They recoiled at the intensity of his gaze, though no emotion was immediately identifiable.

"Class dismissed."

They nearly fell over themselves trying to leave. They didn't want to be around when Harry did whatever he was going to do. Astyr stepped inside to let the students pour out. He shut the door behind them and turned to face Harry. Harry still hadn't moved or made any indication that he knew Astyr was there. Astyr watched as Harry moved his head up and closed his eyes tightly. He finally lowered his gaze and straightened swiftly. He turned his body and looked to Astyr. The emotionless mask that he presented chilled the prince to the bone.

"What are you? Some kind of creature? A metamorphagmus intent on hurting me? My boggart come to haunt me?"

Astyr wasn't as relieved to hear Harry's voice as he had been previously. He walked forward slowly.

"I don't know of a creature that can pretend to be me, though your world might have one. I don't think I've ever met a metamorphagmus, though I suppose that is a biased view. I am most certainly not your boggart; you said it yourself, you don't fear me."

Harry shivered when he heard Astyr's voice but didn't react otherwise.

"You obviously weren't listening carefully. You are exactly what I fear."

Astyr let a slow smile grace his features. Harry's stony expression weakened as it appeared.

"Do you know, your portrait is hanging in the Gryffindor common room?"

Astyr took a step closer as he said this. He was very near now. Harry was thrown by the change in subject and by Astyr's proximity. His confusion warred with his fear, hope, and despair. It made him indecisive and immobile.

"It hangs where Dumbledore did when you were here. It wants you to visit."

Harry's eyes widened as Astyr came closer. They nearly touched. Astyr dropped the pretense of small talk. It wasn't working.

"What are you afraid of, Harry? I'm real. I'm here. The sky isn't going to melt and the walls aren't going to fall. It isn't a dream. Finally, it isn't a dream."

"Astyr…"

His name was breathy and strained coming from Harry's lips. Astyr's smile deepened in response. He loved the sound of his name when Harry said it. He reached out a hand and gently caressed Harry's cheek, imitating the last physical gesture they had shared. Harry's frozen demeanor deteriorated at the touch. His breathing became quick and arduous as he accepted that Astyr was standing in front of him.

"Oh god, Astyr…You were dead…You died and you left me…you…."

Harry's lungs deflated and he brought his hands up to Astyr's forearms, clutching at him tightly. Then he hugged the prince close, pressing painfully into the other. Harry's chest was heaving and Astyr felt cold and hot all over his body. Harry was gasping into Astyr's shoulder and the prince didn't think he would ever let him go.

Astyr held him, smelling him and enjoying the _reality_ that was Harry. He felt the physical presence of his other half and didn't ever want to leave again. His fears and troubles seemed so trivial compared to this. Everything before this was truly a dream and only now was he waking to his entirety.

"Oh Shag," Astyr said softly into his hair, "I guess I just up and got assassinated, again."

Harry's breath left in a whoosh as he laughed.

"Oh God," Harry turned his head up, making no move to break their embrace. "Don't do that. Please, don't ever do that again."

The plea was so sincere and heartbreaking that Astyr didn't make another joke. He only shook his head and responded quietly with conviction.

"I wont."

Harry began to take deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Astyr helped by rubbing his back and listening to his heartbeat.

"You have something of mine." Astyr spoke suddenly, driven by instinct.

"What?" Harry asked in confusion.

Astyr smiled and Harry's eyes latched onto his.

"My heart. You've kept it safe for me. I have yours for you."

Harry's expression turned vulnerable in a very scary way.

"Will you take your heart from me, Astyr?"

Astyr smiled that slow smile again.

"No, love. It lost me when I moved. Yours lost you, too. We need to find each other again."

"How?" Harry whispered, his hoarse voice coming across as desperate.

Astyr's head moved down slowly and he caught Harry's lips with his in a searing kiss. It was warm and soft and embodied everything they felt about each other. He brought his arm up and pulled Harry's head in, pressing into him passionately. Harry's arms moved to Astyr's back and he clutched tightly at the other's shoulders. Their mouths aligned perfectly and the softness between them was heady in its intensity and rightness. Their chests pressed against one another and their bodies moved closer as they yearned for deeper touch.

There wasn't just a physical connection, either. They could only think of their love for each other and each tried to express it. Around them, a red light flitted about their bodies, twining them together. The light dissipated and they drew apart. They stared into each other's eyes, their heartbond healed and filling the space between them.

"Where's the statue?" Harry asked weakly.

Even if the statue were right next to him on the desk, Harry wouldn't have seen it. He never looked away from Astyr at all. Astyr shook his head slowly.

"We don't need it."

Harry agreed.

As the magic and blood slowed in their veins, the classroom fell into silence.

Harry eased his grasp on Astyr and moved back so that he could look more directly at him. Astyr's eyes widened suddenly and a coy smirk played across his face as a thought occurred to him.

"Oh how much I want to shag you right now?"

Each word was said carefully and with pointed clarity. Harry blushed and looked down, unable to keep the grin off his face. His eyes crinkled merrily from the memory.

"I did. Very badly." Harry evaluated Astyr's reaction demurely.

The prince did something very unexpected. He turned and grabbed Harry's wrist, pulling him toward the door.

Surprised, Harry asked, "Where are we going?"

"Your rooms." He replied promptly, "You have two hours until your next class and I think we have wasted enough time if you've been wanting to shag me for this long."

Astyr looked back briefly to catch Harry's astonishment and brought them both out the door.

"Honestly, we could have saved ourselves so much effort!" He said as he dragged the boy-who-lived down the corridor.

Harry started walking faster.

...

YAY! Aren't we all just so happy and gooey inside?

Anyway, I would really appreciate some feedback. I don't know if I'm cut out for big emotional scenes.

Did anyone notice the little sideplot about Astyr's name? In the beginning Harry says he will try to make Astyr appreciate it and here, he finally thinks it sounds wonderful when Harry says it.

I bet you were really pissed off at me when I had Astyr so close to Harry in Hogwarts but he kept running into something that delayed their meeting. I almost made it extend to another chapter. You should thank me because I didn't.

I notice that Astyr is particularly unnoticeable in the last few chapters. Strange.

So I think I made a lot of strange parallels without consciously channeling my highschool English teacher. There is a lot of Fake verses Reality and a lot of Truth verses Lies. I put about a hundred layers on my two main characters because I wanted everyone, including the characters themselves, to question who they are. I wanted a big revolving question of what is heroic and what is normal. Was Jeff heroic? I think so. I wrote him to be a little pessimistic but does that translate to self-serving or evil? Was Astyr ever truly heroic or was he self-serving? Was Harry, the hero, ever perfect in anything he did? I don't think so.

I do think it is very interesting to note that originally, Astyr was going to be the one who got a job at hogwarts and Harry was going to come find him. That was my vague plan when I started this mess. It ended up backwards but sufficient, I suppose.

OK So here is the big question: Do I need to go anywhere from here? I mean, this leaves us all on a heartwrenching moment (assuming that my writing isnt horrendous) and I don't know if anything else needs to be said. There will be one or two more chapters of epilogue if I decide to end on this note. The question is should I? Of course there is the war in France and the assassin not to mention all sorts of particulars I want all the characters to address. Hermione and Draco haven't even met Astyr. And Astyr does have a kingdom he should be fighting for in some other world that I haven't yet named.

I feel like if I leave it at this, there might be a possibility for a sequel (though really, I don't know why.) and if I continue, I will be essentially extending my third act. That's never a good idea. Anticlimactic additional information is almost always a no-go. I also feel like if I did ever do a sequel, I would be skipping a lot of time. I dunno why but it doesn't seem like a story can start from this point. It would have to start a lot later.

Thanks for reading. I love you always.

Tell me what you think.


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